


Everywhere You Look

by artsypolarbear



Series: The Marrying Type [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Children, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pets, Romance, everyone is happy, this is what they all deserved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:21:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6500596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsypolarbear/pseuds/artsypolarbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Lexa's life keeps going on. They have a house in San Francisco, a huge house, with more rooms than they need. So they have Raven and Anya move in.</p><p>And then, Lincoln and Octavia move in too.</p><p>But what's a cute domestic family life fic without some kids?</p><p>sequel to The Marrying Type</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alrighty, TMT concluded but the story goes on - i'm just going to say this now; this isn't going to be daily updates like TMT. i've got life to do and graduating to achieve and stuff, but i'll try to be frequent, if not for your sanity, but for mine.  
> TAKES PLACE ABOUT TWO YEARS AFTER TMT

“Clarke, honey, I need you to sit down.”

“What?”

Abby sighed on the other end of the phone. “Sit down. I have some news for you.”

“Ok, hold on.”

Clarke moved over to the living room and sat down on the couch next to a lounging Fish, who moved his head into her lap and looked up at her curiously.

“Okay, I’m sitting down. What’s happened?”

“Aunt Becca passed away last night.”

Clarke let out a sigh, feeling a twist of sorrow in her chest. “She lasted longer than the doctors said she would.”

That was true; she’d been diagnosed eight months ago, and the doctor had given her six months at most. She was a fighter.

Abby waited for Clarke to steady her breathing, and wished for nothing more than to be there with her daughter now; though aunt Becca had never really been a big part of Clarke’s life, she was still her father’s sister and thus, she was family.

“When’s the funeral?”

“Next Wednesday. Her partner, he- he wanted it as soon as possible.”

Clarke wiped away a tear and nodded. “I’ll be there.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Clarke said quietly. “She lived a good and long life. I’ll miss her.”

“We all will.”

After a while of talking quietly, Clarke hung up the phone and laid down on the couch – tears forced their way through, and she did little to stop them. Fish, now all grown up and far too big to fit in anyone’s lap, crawled to her side to lay his head on her stomach and offer her that little bit of solace.

Though she’d known to expect this, it still hurt; Clarke thought back to every nice memory she had of her aunt, to aunt-niece days where Becca had taken Clarke for ice cream and a movie, back when she was still little and her father was still alive. When her dad had passed, Becca had moved to Chicago and cut off almost all ties, her only contact with them being Christmas and birthday presents and cards for Clarke, always a week early so they were never late.

In the recent years, she’d become closer with them again; she’d moved to Long Island, and had come to visit every now and then, and Clarke recalled her strange obsession with robots and A.I’s. She especially recalled one time that Raven and her aunt had gotten into almost an argument over the probabilities and specs of A.I. existence, and chuckled even amidst her sorrow.

Lexa came home to find Clarke sniffling on the couch, and immediately rushed over to find out what was wrong.

“What happened, Clarke?”

Clarke shook her head and wiped at her eyes. “Aunt Becca, she-“

Lexa sighed and sat on the couch so that Clarke could lean against her and wrap her arms around her waist. She didn't need Clarke to finish the sentence - she knew of aunt Becca, had met her once, and had known to expect this just as much as Clarke had. “I'm sorry.”

“I knew this’d happen.”

“You did.”

Clarke sighed and rested her head on Lexa’s shoulder. “The funeral’s on Wednesday.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“If you can.”

“I’ll arrange it.”

 

* * *

 

The funeral was a quiet occasion, and Clarke cried a little once again – there were only a few close friends in addition to them, and after the service and wake were done with, they met with the notary to hear Becca’s will.

Clarke had expected to perhaps inherit a few boxes of wool socks and some little trinkets.

What she hadn’t expected to hear that she’d inherited a house.

Well, half of a house, but a house nevertheless.

“I’m sorry, are you serious?” Clarke asked, once again.

“Yes, ma’am. Your aunt left you the shares she owns of a house in California.”

“Where in California?”

“I believe it’s somewhere near San Francisco.”

Both Clarke’s and Lexa’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Here,” the notary said, “Here are the details of your property. Feel free to look them over, I’ll be needing some signatures and there’s some paperwork, but if you feel the need to contact your family lawyer-“

“I’ll do it,” Lexa offered. “I’m a lawyer.”

And so while Lexa went off to sort out the paperwork, Clarke looked over the file she’d been handed.

“This isn’t a house,” she muttered to herself, “It’s a fucking mansion.”

It wasn’t a real mansion – from what the pictures showed, it was a three-story house with a colonial vibe, located a 40-minute or so drive from San Francisco. It had apparently once been the mayor’s house, and then the town house, and had even served as a hotel of sorts; but now it was empty, and Clarke owned half of it.

Lexa came back and took her over to the table, and after skimming the papers, Clarke put her signature wherever it was needed.

“So I own half of…this, now?”

The notary nodded and handed her a pair of old keys. “Here.”

“How about the second owner?”

“He passed away a few years ago and his shares were bought up by the bank – all the information is right in there.”

The whole flight home, both of them looked over the file, over and over again, till they knew every picture by heart, every detail of the house was stuck to their minds – it had three floors, a basement, and an attic; 6 bedrooms in total, 4 bathrooms, a garage and a deck and what looked to be a great view of some woods on one side and the lowering hill of houses on another. It wasn’t in San Francisco, but close enough that they could still live there and keep their jobs.

“This is a turn I didn’t expect,” Lexa murmured, half asleep after the long and dreary flight.

“Me neither.”

“I mean, it’s valuable.”

“So valuable. And that it was for me? You were supposed to be the rich one.”

Lexa laughed and kissed Clarke’s brow. They had the row to themselves, through some miracle, and Clarke had laid down so that she could rest her head in Lexa’s lap. Lexa had been comfortable enough to sleep while sitting up, her hands laced through Clarke’s hair. They’d woken with two hours still left till they reached San Francisco, and Clarke was too tired to get up. Lexa had felt her shift and woken up too, and recalled how in her sleep she’d dreamt of the house – of living in it, of sitting on the porch and watching their kids run around in the yard, of sitting in front of the fireplace on a colder winter night and cuddling up to Clarke – it had been a pleasant dream, and she was more than eager to go see the house.

“She always lived so stingily,” Clarke yawned. “I would’ve never thought she’d be in possession of half a property worth a lot. Millions.”

“Life’s full of surprises.”

“It’s probably rotten to the core – it’s so old, it's got to be. There has to be some catch.”

“Then we can renovate it.”

“You want to live in it?”

“I’m considering it.”

“Lexa, it’s got 6 bedrooms. There’s two of us. What will we do with the 5 other bedrooms?”

Lexa chuckled. Her fingers were lacing small braids in Clarke’s hair in no particular pattern or design, and for a while, she thought over what to say. The steady hum of the plane filled their minds like white noise, and the dry air, having caused them both cracked lips, made Lexa yearn for fresh air and steady ground beneath her feet.

“I suppose,” she finally said quietly, “I suppose we’ll just have to have five children to fill those bedrooms.”

“Five? I thought you said you’d be happy with two.”

“Well, if we have to fill the house…”

Clarke laughed and patted Lexa’s hand. “How about we start with one kid and see how it goes from there?”

“Fair enough. But can we please go see the house tomorrow? I’m not expected back till Friday.”

“I have one meeting in the morning, but after that, sure.”

“What if it’s our dream house?”

“Then I’ll probably cry.”

Lexa smiled and rested her head back, closing her eyes. “My head hurts.”

“Drink some water.”

She didn’t even open her eyes to know that Clarke was opening the water bottle and bringing it to her lips; her fingers were still toying with Clarke’s hair, a comforting gesture that Lexa knew calmed her down, and Clarke didn’t want her to stop.

“When we get home, you get to walk Fish,” Clarke mumbled as she shut her eyes again. “I’m too tired.”

“Aw, no…”

“You wanted him.”

“We both did.”

“Your turn.”

“Fi-ine.”

 

* * *

 

The house was big. The pictures hadn't quite prepared them for how big it could be.

It was located at the end of a cul-de-sac at the top of a hill, not quite at the top but at the highest that the suburb it belonged to stretched. The yard was overgrown with weeds and small saplings of trees, and the picket fence that separated it from the neighboring lot had broken down in places. A large oak tree stood in the backyard, so tall that it’s tops reached higher than the house itself, the light green leaves rustling in the cool spring wind.

It had three stories, a porch, and panes at the windows that were in dire need of a new coat of paint – the whole house did, the ghastly pink paint that must’ve once looked more or less like someone had coated the house with Nyquil was almost entirely peeled off, giving them a less-than satisfactory first impression.

“Clarke, I think our dream house is in ruins.”

“According to the notes here…” Clarke began, flipping through to the notes till she found them. “Right, so the structures are surprisingly in good condition, they were checked just last year – there’s some renovating to do in the basement, and there’s one wall on the third floor that has to be replaced before anyone can even go into the attic. There’s four broken windows on the second floor, but otherwise, it’s in relatively good condition. Oh, and the chimney has to be redone. As I said, it's in relatively good condition.”

They’d come to the porch, and Lexa handed Clarke the key. “Well, shall we?”

It took three tries to get the door open. The lock hadn't been used nearly enough.

Inside the house, the sunlight penetrated the windows where it could from the layers of dust that had gathered just about everywhere, and the air sparkled with the dust particles that danced along the rays of light that were let in. It was a hazy feeling, walking through into what appeared like a living room, with the stairs on their left and the kitchen visible to their right, the old age of the house just seeping through every inch of it's materials and into the air.

The floorboards creaked beneath Clarke’s feet as she walked slowly towards the centre of the room. At one creak, a small mouse darted from the corner it’d hidden in, running across the floor to the other side, drawing a surprised cry from Clarke’s lips.

Lexa laughed. “It’s just a mouse, Clarke.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and gave her a shove. “Just a mouse my ass, it could’ve been a venomous tarantula. Reflexes never hurt anyone.”

They moved across to the right to inspect kitchen and found it a little old-fashioned, mostly stuck somewhere in the 20s with it’s style. An age-old dining table that could’ve seated at least twenty people was the only piece of furniture they could find, and Clarke made a point of laying down atop it and making what she called a dust-angel.

“Don’t you dare come near me,” Lexa told her, but Clarke of course didn’t listen – no, she grabbed Lexa by the waist, holding on so tight that Lexa couldn’t get away from the assault of a dusty Clarke, and laughter echoed in the empty house as Clarke littered kisses along Lexa's cheeks and neck, getting dust all over her in the process.

“Let me at least dust you off,” Lexa muttered, turning Clarke around once she’d let go of her. “Jesus, there’s at least an inch of dust on you.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Perhaps.”

Next, they made their way up the stairs in the living room and across the balcony that took them along the side wall of the living room. The living room itself had high ceilings, with no rooms above it – the stairs were on the left side when looking from the door, and across the wall there was a walkway of sorts to the second floor.

There, they found three rooms, all of which could easily be made into bedrooms. The larger one was one which Clarke liked, considering it had a large bathroom and a gorgeous view of their backyard and the woods beyond. From there, the third floor was much the same, and they didn’t dare venture into the attic in fear of breaking something.

“So, what do you think?” Clarke asked Lexa after they’d taken a tour of the garden and garage and basement and come back to sit in two age-old lawn chairs set up on the deck in the back. “Is it liveable?”

Lexa sighed and took a sip from her water bottle. “Clarke, I can see us living here. It’s ugly as hell now, and we _really_ need to repaint just about every inch of it’s walls in and out, but… I say yes.”

“Yes? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Lexa, this is a _huge_ house.”

“So we’ll have guests over all the time and adopt a bunch of children,” Lexa shrugged. “Or Fish can have his own room. Or two.”

“We’d still have to buy the other half before we get to do any work.”

“What was it again, a little over a million?”

“Sometimes I forget you’re a millionaire.”

Lexa laughed. “No, _darling_ ,” she said, exaggerating her tone to as posh as she could, _“_ We are millionaires. Together. Well, almost millionaires.”

“But it’s so big…” Clarke sighed.

“Think of it this way, Clarke. You’ll have five rooms to call your studio.”

“That is true.”

“And the neighbourhood is nice, and the school district is good – and it’s not that far to San Francisco. I mean we’d probably have to get a car, but…we could make it work. And, when we have kids, this would be perfect.”

Clarke looked at Lexa and saw that she was so very near to begging, and couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, fine. I’m willing to _think_ about this. But we’re not going to rush into this.”

“Of course not, I was going to say that we’d first get offers for the renovations, and see if it’s possible, and _then_ decide.”

“Yes. That’s smart.”

“And we can live in this huge house. It’ll be great.”

“At least there’s space.”

It was true that their two-bedroom apartment downtown was growing a little small for Fish’s needs, and though it was just perfect for the two of them, their plans for the future all included children. And children did not fit where they lived now. Here, in the quaint little suburb less than an hours’ drive from San Francisco, raising children would be idyllic.

It was about five in the evening on a Thursday night, and in the evening air the sounds of children playing in the street echoed like music – for a moment, Clarke shut her eyes, and tried to imagine those sounds as their children. It wasn’t a challenging feat, and for a long while, she just sat there, a smile on her face, relishing the feel of the evening sun on her face and the sounds of what could be their new neighbourhood.

 

* * *

 

A month later they bought the house.

A flutter of butterflies exploded in Clarke’s belly when she took the pen from Lexa to sign the papers finalizing the purchase, a flutter which she’d last felt when they’d been at the porch of their first home in San Francisco. That had been over two years ago, and life had since settled for them. She was now a curator of a gallery, and Lexa’s position at the office had consolidated and everything was going smoothly. Fish had grown out of his ‘gnawing everything and drooling everywhere’ phase, and though he still retained a puppy-like idiocy to him, he was no longer a little pup.

After the purchase, they’d spent the next week agonizing over renovation plans, over paint tones and floor tiles and wallpapers and god-knows-what else, and by the time they were ‘supposedly’ done with all of that, they were both exhausted. They’d marathoned through all the work so to get started quickly, so to speed up the process of them actually getting to move in. Their goal was to get to move by the end of summer.

That specific day, they’d spent the whole afternoon organizing for the landscaping of the yard and the garden – every tree except for the oak and a few apple trees were to be cut down, and the fence had to of course be rebuilt – the smaller tasks they’d left for themselves, but the bigger work projects they were more than happy to pay for.

“I never want to see a paint swatch in my life,” Clarke muttered as she slumped down into bed that night, “Or hear talk about beams and floor tiles.”

Lexa laughed wearily. “Me neither. I just want to sleep.”

Her wish wasn’t granted, though, because the next instant Clarke’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, yes, is this the Griffin residence?”

Clarke laughed at Raven’s god-awful British accent. “Raven, I know it’s you.”

“I know, just like the sound of that.”

“How’s Malawi?”

“It’s great. I’m dying.”

“Why?”

“Anya’s currently laying on top of me and competing for my attention.”

“Aw, you poor child, having to deal with your girlfriend smothering you with cuddles.”

“Clarke, she’s suffocating me.”

Clarke heard a mumble that could’ve been deciphered as Anya grumbling ‘no, I’m not’.

“Ok, Clarke, listen up because I have some great news for you.”

“Okay, hit me.”

“We’re moving to San Francisco in four months.”

“What?”

“I know!”

“Really?”

“Really!”

Clarke let out a laugh, drawing a curious, albeit exhausted, look from Lexa.

“Why are you moving?”

“Anya got a job at St. Luke’s.”

“That’s awesome.”

“Aand I have a job application pending at this up and coming engineering startup. If I get it I’ll probably die.”

“You won’t die.”

“Now we just have to find an apartment we can afford.”

Clarke laughed. “Good luck at that.”

“It’s ridiculous, we’ve been looking for a while already and _nothing_ that’d suit our budget and be liveable is available. Insane, I tell you. Just watch, we’ll end up living on your couch.”

“Actually…” Clarke began. “Wait, hold on, I need to confer with the wife.”

She put the call on hold and crawled over to Lexa’s side. “Anya and Raven are moving here when they come back.”

Lexa’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yeap.”

“Where are they going to live?”

“I was thinking…”

“Clarke, are you-“

“Our place?”

“The house?”

“There’s room, at least…”

Lexa’s brows furrowed as she thought it over. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Neither would I. Just checked with you before promising anything.”

Clarke took the call off hold and returned to speaking with Raven. “Right, listen up.”

“Mhm?”

“You know that house I inherited half of?”

“Yeah?”

“We bought it.”

“Really? But didn’t you say it’s huge?”

“Yeah, but…it’s so nice. It’ll be even nicer when we finish renovating.”

“Why do I feel like there’s something more you're about to say?”

Clarke took a deep breath. “Raven, do you want to move in with me? With us?”

There was a moment of silence, followed by a gasp, and then Clarke heard Raven nudging Anya and saying ‘Anya, oh my god, listen, Clarke just offered us a place with them, they bought the damn mansion’. She waited patiently for Raven to calm down, a smile stretched on her face as she did.

“Well?” She asked when Raven finally returned to the phone. “Will you?”

“Hell yeah!” Raven said. “And Anya’s saying yes too, but she’s trying to sleep so forgive her for not being so excited.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’re rude.”

“No I’m not.”

“You love me.”

“I just offered for you to move in with me. We’ll see if I still love you after a few months of living with you.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, Raven.”

“I know, but that was just rude.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Mail me some Reeses’ and I’ll consider your apology.”

Clarke spoke with Raven for a long while, for so long that by the end she was practically falling asleep – when she did finally hang up, she crawled to lay beside Lexa, who was already fast asleep, a little smile on her lips.

 _This is going to be insane,_ Clarke thought to herself before falling asleep, _but it’ll be great._

And she was certainly right on both counts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the house is filling up, slowly, but surely...  
> and notice that clexa is discussing children as a 'when', not an 'if'. children are going to be happening in this fic and it's going to be fluffy and adorable.


	2. Chapter 2

The renovations were finished up mid-June, when the sun was shining and the summer was at it’s best. Their holidays started not a week later – they’d been fortunate enough to have them take place at the same time, and Lexa had prepared Clarke a surprise holiday for the first week.

Their destination was Hawaii, and Clarke wasn't surprised at all to find it so.

She had already guessed it from the half-assed ‘getting lei’d’ jokes that Lexa had been making for the past few weeks, but she was happy to pretend to be surprised when Lexa did finally tell her.

The week went by slowly and quickly all at once – they mostly just lounged on the beach, soaking in the sun and having delicious cocktails and sharing hot, alcohol-infused kisses before the sparkling turquoise sea. Lexa developed a beautiful tan during that week, and while Clarke did get a little tint on her skin, it did not compare to how her wife looked.

Ravishing was the only word she could think of, and ravishing was the word Lexa banned her from ever saying again.

“It makes me sound like a meal,” Lexa grumbled.

“Well…” Clarke began, running a hand up Lexa’s arm, a smile on her face. “I would _love_ to eat you-“

“Clarke.”

“What?”

“That’s the worst joke you could make.”

“But can I?”

“What?”

“Eat you?”

“Clarke, we’re on a plane.”

They were on their way home from their island getaway. The plane, though not at it’s fullest, was full enough that the idea of a little bathroom quickie made Lexa nervous rather than aroused – there were too many people. There was no way they could get away with it.

Clarke grumbled and settled her head on Lexa’s shoulder. “Killjoy.”

“Needy little baby.”

“Shut up.”

“I promise, you can do that the second we’re home.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Clarke murmured, turning her head to press a kiss onto Lexa’s sunkissed skin. “You’re looking too ravishing not to.”

“Don’t use that word.”

“What then? Delicious? Hot? Seductive?”

Lexa just chuckled. “You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot with needs and a hot wife.”

“That is true.”

Clarke sighed and stopped kissing along Lexa’s neck to rest her head on her shoulder again. “We’re moving in to the house.”

“That we are.”

“Do we even have any furniture there yet?”

“From what I heard, all our stuff is piled in the living room. It’s up to us to decide where we want it.”

“ _All_ our stuff?”

“The bed’s in the second floor master bedroom, but other than that, yes.”

“That’s more like it,” Clarke hummed. “I can’t believe it’s still an hour till we land. We’ve been on this plane for a millennium.”

Lexa nodded. “I can’t wait to get home.”

“Me neither.”

* * *

They got back to their brand new home when the morning sun’s first rays were only just crawling their way over the horizon. It was the moment before dawn, only a few birds were awake and singing – the air was was cool, and Clarke shivered a little as she waited for Lexa to find the key and open the door.

They stepped inside, and were first hit with the smell - or, well, a lack thereof. The house no longer smelled of mould and dust as it had not three months before. It now smelled of freshly cut wood and paint, it had that empty, clean scent that lingered in new apartments. It no longer felt cold, either – the walls had been partly redone to make sure there wasn’t a draft of any kind, and all windows had been renewed and properly sealed in. The house had a warm feel to it now, it no longer felt abandoned and alone – it felt alive, it felt like a promise of something new, of something great, yet to be discovered.

“I’m so tired,” Clarke mumbled as she dropped her suitcase onto the floor. “What time do we have to pick up Fish again?”

Lexa set her bags down and yawned. “I texted Marie and asked her to bring him here whenever she comes to work. She’ll call and we’ll let him in.”

“Good.”

Clarke’s intentions of laying Lexa down and showing her a good time were set aside in the face of her overpowering exhaustion, and together they climbed the stairs to their new bedroom. They were far too tired to look around and see what it all looked like. All they cared for was getting to their bed and getting some well-deserved sleep.

Four hours later the doorbell rang.

Lexa was practically shoved out of bed by a sleepy Clarke, and she stumbled her way down the stairs as fast as she could, wrapping her robe around her as she did. She opened the door and was greeted by Fish, the dog jumping at her and trying to give her kisses – she laughed and pushed him down, allowing him to slip past her and into the house as she thanked her secretary for taking care of him.

“How was everything?”

“He was great,” Marie smiled. “He missed you.”

Lexa smiled. “I’m sure he did.”

“And I brought the groceries you asked for,” Marie said, handing Lexa a bag. “You don’t have to pay now, just send it to me whenever you’re able.”

“Thanks again, Marie.”

And then Marie went her way, and Lexa stood in the doorway for a while. It was 9 in the morning, and the sun was up and shining; the neighborhood was awake, it was a beautiful, cloudless Saturday morning and children were out to play. Down the street, Lexa could see a couple of kids playing soccer, and a little further down, she saw people lounging in their yards, most likely enjoying their breakfasts outside.

A low rumble in her stomach reminded her that she was starving and had yet to eat anything other than the dinner they'd had on the plane the night before.

She turned on her heel and shut the door, and for the first time, saw their new home in broad daylight.

It was beautiful. The windows, now clear of dust and dirt, let in an insane amount of natural light, given the fact that the actual floor plan of the house shouldn’t’ve allowed for as much to come in – they had of course added and torn down some walls here and there to make it more open and less box-like, but even so, it was nothing like their previous apartment. This was a house with a history, with a touch of tradition, and that made it feel that much more homey.

Her intentions of preparing an omelette were promptly squashed when she came to the realization that she had no idea which box they’d put the kitchen utensils in. She could only find one with some plates and glasses, and so she set the table with fruits and yogurt cups, knowing it wouldn’t matter so much what they ate. Clarke would love the gesture anyway.

For a moment, she stood in the middle of the kitchen, eyes shut to properly breathe in the scene around her. They had a house, an empty canvas to paint their lives upon, a whole load of empty rooms to explore and live in - their furniture was yet to be placed, the rooms were yet to be filled, and she couldn’t wait to make the house her home.

Their home.

Clarke tried to surprise her by sneaking up, intending to sneak a kiss before Lexa noticed. But Fish, who had thus far been sitting loyally at Lexa’s side in wait for any treats she could offer, let out a bark and ran at her, exposing her cover. Clarke just laughed and fell to her knees, giving the dog a hug and a proper belly rub before finally getting up and greeting her wife with a kiss.

“Sorry I didn’t follow up on my promise last night,” she yawned.

“It’s alright,” Lexa replied, a wide yawn stretching on her face not a moment after Clarke had stopped yawning herself. “We have time. But now let’s eat real food.”

“Can we go outside?”

“Is it cold?”

“The sun’s shining on the back deck.”

They grabbed their yogurt cups and the plate of fruit and headed outside to the backyard – the door that had been built next to the kitchen was brand new, as was the deck – there was a picnic table set up in the middle, and it was there that they sat down to bask in the morning sun.

Fish ran off into the yard, but they didn’t have to worry about him escaping the premises – they’d made extra sure that the fence around the house was dog-proof, and Lexa assured Clarke that the front gate was shut tight.

“So, now what?”

Lexa turned to look at Clarke and smiled. “I’ve still got two weeks of vacation. You’ve got three.”

“Don’t sound so jealous, you’re getting the whole Thanksgiving week off.”

“I know, I know.”

Clarke popped a grape into her mouth and wiggled her toes. “Raven and Anya are coming back in less than a month.”

“I know.”

“Are you ready?”

“Not sure. Are we?”

“Where do you think they should sleep?”

“The third floor, probably? There’s another big bedroom there.”

“Sounds good.”

“So that’s two out of six,” Lexa said. “Four more to go.”

“Huh?”

“Bedrooms. Four are left empty.”

“Well I think I’m going to commandeer one of them as a studio, at least. And you can have a study.”

“There’s a separate space for a study upstairs, though. On the third floor, I think. Or the second.”

“It’s such a big house.”

“It’s a pretty house,” Lexa commented. “Now that we got rid of that hideous pink color.”

That was true – the house had been repainted a pale and warm yellow color, with white windowpanes and decorative wooden pieces running along the edges of the porch roof. It went well with the traditional design of the house, and the demure color scheme blended well enough with the surrounding nature and neighbourhood.

“That’s true.”

“What are we going to do, though, when Raven hauls all her god-awful furniture into our house?”

Clarke laughed. “She won’t part with that couch and you know it. She doesn’t own much else, and I think Anya would be more than willing to finally say goodbye to the pile of fluff Raven calls a bed.”

“The couch is _so_ ugly.”

“So we’ll toss it in the attic or something. We’ve got room.”

“This is going to be insane, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

 

* * *

 

_3 weeks and 5 days later_

 

“Anya, get your ass up.”

Anya grumbled and turned to her side on the cot set up in their tent. “No.”

“We’ll miss our plane.”

“My alarm hasn’t rung yet.”

Raven gave Anya another nudge. “Yes, it has. Ten minutes ago.”

“I want to sleep.”

“You can sleep on the plane,” Raven told her, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “Or we could try and finally get into the mile high club.”

Her words she accompanied with a nip at Anya’s earlobe, and the woman sprung up from the bed, looking equal amounts of annoyed and excited. “We’ll see,” she smirked as she swung her legs over the edge and went over to her suitcase to get some clothes.

“You took my sweatpants,” she commented.

“That I did.”

“Give them back.”

“No, they’re comfy and mine are unavailable.”

“Yes, because _you_ went and spilled guava juice all over them last night. Give my sweatpants back.”

“No.”

“Raven.”

“You’ll have to fight me for them.”

Anya just sighed. “Fine, I’ll just take your hoodie then.”

“Noo-“

But Anya had already snatched the hoodie from the table, and put it on before Raven could get to her.

“You take something of mine, I take something of yours. It’s only fair.”

Raven huffed. “Now what am I going to wear?”

Anya grabbed her own hoodie and chucked it at Raven’s face. “That one?”

Raven laughed and put the hoodie down. “If I put them on now I’d have a heat stroke.”

“What’s the time?”

“Quarter to four.”

“We gotta go.”

“I know.”

“Let’s go back home.”

“Yeah, lets,” Raven grinned. “I can’t wait.”

They did manage to sneak a quickie in the plane bathroom, and Raven was more than satisfied to finally check off that from her bucket list. Anya just rolled her eyes, and had to bear Raven's occasional snickers and mutters of 'hah we banged in the goddamn sky' for almost two hours before finally shutting her up by threatening to not have sex with her for a month if she didn't stop.

"You can't hold off from me for a month," Raven had argued.

"Try me."

Raven had stared at her for a split second before grabbing her hand. "Please, no- Anya, I can't  _live_ without your sweetness, I-"

It was overtly melodramatic and Anya couldn't help but laugh. "Shut up, you idiot."

"Anything to still get to tap that."

"Raven-"

"Fine, fine. I'll stop."

Their first layover was in Nairobi, from where they flew to Amsterdam. Anya slept most of that flight, and Raven spent her time mindlessly sketching out new product designs in her sketchbook. She wasn't able to sleep on planes, never had, and never could - air travel was always gruesome for her, but she bore through it because she had no other choice. If she wanted to get home, she had to endure hours upon hours of dry air and cracked lips and the boring hum of the plane that seemed to push through even the best noise-canceling headphones.

Anya, on the other hand, could’ve slept just about anywhere. She'd fallen asleep against Raven's shoulder, one of Raven's arms cradled against her chest, and Raven couldn't help but keep glancing at her adorable sleeping girlfriend every chance she got. It was a miracle how Anya was able to sleep so much and so easily, and how she was always so beautiful when she did. Raven's phone was almost half full of pictures of Anya sleeping, not because she was a creep but simply because she was so beautiful and peaceful in her sleep that it would've been a sin to let it go unacknowledged.

Raven spent much of her time toying with Anya’s hair and drawing patterns on her skin, almost asleep herself but not quite there. It was comfortable, especially in the darkness of the cabin, and the steady breaths of Anya tickling her skin lulled her into a state in between awakenness and sleep, in which she spent most of the flight from Amsterdam to New York.

From New York, it was the home stretch to San Francisco. By the time they landed, they'd been traveling for 37 hours, and were appropriately exhausted.

 Raven was only barely aware of where they were going, having only slept maybe an hour or two – Anya, on the other hand, was better-rested, though only slightly so, and so she let Raven sit and doze off on the luggage cart as they headed out into the lobby and tried to find Clarke and Lexa.

It wasn’t so hard – even though the hall was very full, Clarke’s blonde hair was unmistakeable amidst the crowd, and the fact that they’d made a sign made them that much easier to find.

_Welcome home, asshole + Anya_

Raven wasn’t so tired that she didn’t laugh at the joke – she even climbed up from the cart to allow Clarke to engulf her in a hug, and though she almost fell asleep on the spot right there and then, she didn’t.

“Please tell me we have a bed at the house,” she whined. “I’m dying.”

Clarke laughed. “Yes, we made your bed. Which, I hope, you like.”

“If it’s a bed and it has a pillow, I’ll love it forever,” Raven hummed drowsily as she plopped back down into the luggage cart. “Now giddyup Anya, let’s go home!”

But Anya was busy being practically choked to death by Lexa's tight hug.

“Welcome home,” Lexa murmured, her arms still tight around Anya. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, dummy.”

This time, Lexa didn’t complain about what she’d said. As it was, Anya calling her dummy upon return was a tradition, albeit a strange one.

They piled into the car and drove off into the late San Francisco evening. By the time they’d reached the Golden Gate bridge, both Anya and Raven were tuckered out in the backseat, and so they missed it that first time – but, as time went on, they’d grow sick of seeing it, seeing as it was on the way downtown from where the house was.

“Welcome to 1040 Lavender Crescent,” Clarke declared upon arrival. “Wakey wakey.”

There were groans and grumbles from the backseat, and both Clarke and Lexa laughed. “Fine, we’ll postpone the house tour till tomorrow. You two gonna sleep back there, or would you rather get into a real bed?”

“I’m good,” Raven mumbled, face hidden in Anya’s chest. “I’ll stay here forever.”

Anya rolled her eyes and pushed Raven off of herself. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

They got out of the car, and even in her drowsy stupor, Raven was incapable of not noticing the grandeur of the house.

“Holy shit. It’s huge.”

Clarke laughed. “Yeah, it is.”

“It’s a damn mansion, except it looks nice. Like kind people live there, not serial killers.”

“You’re not making any sense. Go to sleep.”

Raven yawned in response, and was pushed forward by an equally sleepy Anya. They were led upstairs to the third floor, and paid little notion to the little decorating efforts Lexa had put into their room before both of them had already crawled into bed.

“They’ll see it tomorrow,” Clarke assured Lexa. “It was nice of you to furnish it.”

“I didn’t do much, though. Just a rug and curtains, and that sort.”

“Well, it was nice of you to do it anyway.”

They came downstairs to find Anya’s and Raven’s luggage sprawled out in the middle of their living room, with Fish happily trying to claw his way into their contents.

“Fish, no,” Lexa chuckled. “No poking around.”

The dog threw her what could’ve been interpreted as a glare before he went over to the corner where his bed was.

“Looks like we’re not alone anymore,” Clarke commented. “How do you feel about that?”

Lexa smiled. “It’s great.”

“Wait till you have to do Raven’s laundry for the first time. You’ll regret that.”

“What, it can’t be that bad?”

“Lexa, she seems to be a spill-magnet. Juice, toothpaste, anything – I mean thank god she’s dating Anya now, so there’s no chance for _those_ sorts of stains, but-“

Lexa cringed. “Oh, no, I didn’t want to know that.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry.”

“No, you look adorable when you cringe.”

“Clarke, you’re mean.”

“Maybe.”

“When do you think we should wake them up?”

Clarke walked over and slid her arms around Lexa’s waist. “Why? You’re not happy with my company?”

“Shut up, you know I am. But we didn’t get much time to talk…”

“I say we let them sleep however long they need to. Raven was so sleepy she looked and acted drunk – hell, she couldn’t even walk in a straight line. She’ll sleep for a day, at least. And I’m still scared of waking Anya up before it’s her time. She’ll knife me for sure if I try.”

“She won’t knife you-“

Clarke gave Lexa a pointed look, and so she continued with: “-because she hasn’t got a knife. She might punch you, though.”

“Thank you, and that’s why you will be in charge of any irregular wakeup calls to Anya from now on till forever.”

“You’re mean.”

“She wouldn't ever punch you.”

“She’ll tickle me. That’s worse.”

“Oh?” Clarke asked, a smirk spreading onto her face. “This is worse?”

She ran her fingers up Lexa’s sides, and the brunette let out a giggle as she tried to worm out of her grasp – but Clarke held her tight, and didn’t let her slip away, and so for a while, they wrestled while Clarke continued to tickle Lexa. But then Fish got involved, deciding it looked too much like an assault, and barked.

“Shit, shh, Fish. Anya and Raven need their beauty sleep,” Clarke shushed the dog, immediately letting go of Lexa.

“They wouldn’t wake up if the house was on fire.”

“True.”

“You wanna go for a  walk?”

“Sure.”

“I was talking to Fish.”

“Well that’s just rude.”

Lexa smirked and made her way to the front door, taking Fish’s leash from the hook next to the door. “You’re welcome to come along, if you want.”

“As if you could stop me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clexa is all soft and nice on their own, but ranya's going to brink spark into the household  
> also, guess who's making an appearance next chapter? (spoilers, it's linctavia)  
> i love all of these idiots and writing them all living in a huge-ass house is probably my fave thing to do tbh


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to redo the series thingy for this, so if any of you subscribed to the series before, you have to resubscribe 'cause i had to delete the old one and start anew (it's confusing but anyway)  
> exams are nearing, we'll see when the next update comes...but enjoy!

“Clarke, I think they’re dead.”

Clarke raised her eyes from her sketchbook and let out a laugh when she saw the pouty frown on Lexa’s face. “They’re not dead.”

“Clarke, it’s been a day. I haven’t seen or heard from either of them. They’re dead.”

“You’re welcome to go up and check.”

“I did, just now. I swear they’ve been in the same position for the past seven hours.”

“You’re kinda creepy, you know that right?”

Lexa huffed and slumped down onto the couch beside Clarke. “Who would’ve thought our best friends would end up together?”

Clarke hummed. “Who would’ve thought we’d end up together?”

“You have a point there.” Lexa leaned on Clarke’s shoulder to peek at what she was drawing. “Who’s that?”

“Raven.”

“Doesn’t look much like her.”

“I literally just started,” Clarke muttered. “It’s two lines and a circle.”

“I know, I was just teasing.”

“You sound jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You still hate that she calls me wifey, don’t you?”

Lexa let out a grumble and moved over, pushing Clarke forward just a little bit so that she could slip in behind her and wrap her arms around her waist, bringing her in closer. “Maybe…wifey.”

“You sound ridiculous when you say that.”

“What? You’re my wife.”

“Yes, but there’s a difference between wifey and wife.”

“And what’s that?”

Clarke shrugged. “Raven calls me wifey and it’s a joke. You call me your wife and it’s real. That’s the difference.”

Lexa chuckled. “I’m glad you can tell the difference. Raven likes to rub it in my face.”

“Aw, you poor little jealous thing,” Clarke cooed in a mocking tone. “Now hush, you’re distracting me.”

But Lexa had other ideas. Slowly, surely, she moved her hands up from Clarke’s waist to her breasts, one hand undoing a few buttons of Clarke’s shirt to allow the other to slip in and cup her breast. Her lips she moved to Clarke’s neck, and, as she slowly massaged Clarke’s breasts with her hands, she kissed and sucked on just the right spots on Clarke’s neck to have her leaning her head back, moaning quietly as she went on.

“Lexa…” Clarke murmured, but it wasn’t a sound of protest.

Lexa hummed and rolled her thumb over Clarke’s nipple, feeling how hard it had already grown. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Clarke let out a laugh. “We literally had sex, I don’t know, yesterday? In the shower?”

Lexa shrugged. “I know. It’s been ages.”

“It's been a day, Lexa.”

“Are you complaining?”

“God, no.”

“Wanna move up to the bedroom?”

Lexa pecked a kiss to Clarke’s cheek and slipped her hands away from her breasts, pushing her up eagerly. “Lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

Anya woke up to a slap to the face.

Granted, it was an accident, and it’s perpetrator was fast asleep, but still, it was a slap.

Anya let out a yelp and darted up, glaring angrily at Raven, still happily asleep on her back, yet unaware of the fact that she’d flopped her arm over and slapped Anya in the face, causing anger to flare up within her.

But her anger melted away when she laid her eyes upon Raven’s sleeping form – she was wearing little to nothing, just a tank top and some boxer shorts, and her skin, beautifully tan from their two years in the tropics, looked smooth and enticing in the afternoon’s glowing sun that peeked it’s way through the curtains. Raven’s head was laid to the side, just slightly, exposing her neck in a way that made Anya want to lean in to kiss it – her lips were slightly parted, a small dribble of drool having trickled it’s way down Raven’s chin and onto the pillow, and Anya reached over to gently wipe it away with her thumb.

It was no surprise to her that Raven didn’t wake when she did that.

She turned over to glance at the clock, and saw that it was almost seven in the evening. She felt well-rested, and, as she laid there for a few more minutes, she became very aware of the fact that she was starving.

With a little groan, she got up. It took her a while to find herself a pair of socks, but when she did, she left the room. She didn’t wake Raven, not yet.

After all, Raven had stayed up for most of the flight. She deserved her rest.

Anya looked around the landing and saw that the house was somehow both new and old – the rooms across from her was empty, the doors open revealing blank white walls and wooden floors, windows yet to be adorned with curtains or anything of that sort.

As she took a few more steps, the floorboards beneath her feet creaked, and almost immediately, Anya heard the quiet patter of Fish’s paws on the stairs as he rushed upstairs to greet her. She tried to shush him and his whines as he begged for her to pet him, fearing he’d wake Raven.

“Come on, let’s go see where your mommies are,” Anya yawned.

She walked past the second floor and to the first, only to find it entirely empty. There was a sketchbook on the coffee table, laid there as though in a haste. Anya saw Lexa’s coat folded over the arm of the couch, and so she knew that the two of them had to be home.

When she realized they were most likely retired to their own room, she laughed and shook her head.

“Two years,” she muttered to herself as she made her way to the kitchen, “Two years, and they’re still at it like newlyweds.”

She busied herself with whipping up some sort of dinner from what she’d found in the fridge – she ended up making spaghetti, and soon enough, the smell of meat sauce floated about the whole house.

“Clarke,” Lexa breathed, “I think Anya’s awake.”

Clarke didn’t respond – well, she couldn’t, mostly because her mouth was otherwise occupied in between Lexa’s legs. She did raise her eyebrows, though, in a little smirk, followed by a swirl of tongue that had Lexa groaning and bucking her hips.

Lexa’s fingers curled tighter around Clarke’s hair as she felt the trembling heat of her release approaching, and then she reached the peak – and came crashing down, biting her lip to stifle her moans.

“Yeah, Anya’s awake,” Clarke murmured as she climbed back over Lexa. “But she’s not a child. She can fend for herself for a while.”

“She must be hungry,” Lexa tried to say, but she was interrupted by soft kisses trailing along her clavicle. “We should-“

“Lexa, calm down. She’s a grownup. She knows where the fridge is.”

And so Lexa sighed and allowed Clarke to settle on top of her, one leg slung over her waist while her head rested on her shoulder.

“Do you think our walls are soundproof?”

Clarke let out a chuckle. “I put in a special request,” she told Lexa, “Remember? Thin walls have accounted for some mistakes in the past.”

Lexa knew what she was referring to, and smiled. “I’d say that was probably the best mistake you ever made.”

“Lexa, you overheard my proclaiming of my love for you because of the thin walls at Mom’s house, and god knows I’ve had some uncomfortable encounters with Mom when she’s come knocking at my door telling me she knows I’m not alone because she can hear – no, I’m not dealing with that.”

Lexa let out a laugh. “No need to get so worked up, I’m glad you did request it. I’m sure our upstairs neighbours can get rather…rowdy.”

As though on cue, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

It was Anya. “Dinner’s ready!”

Clarke looked at Lexa. “It’s like we’re a family.”

“A weird family.”

“A family nevertheless.”

“You hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“Then get up.”

“No.”

“Clarke…”

“Fine.”

 

* * *

 

Anya figured the best way to get Raven up was by gentle but rough means.

That was precisely the reason why she brought Fish up and pointed at the blanket-burrito on their bed, and said ‘go fetch’.

Raven cried out when a wet drooling dog-tongue came at her face and four paws prodded at her stomach and legs and arms.

“Oh my god!”

Fish was more than excited to have resuscitated Raven so, and only continued to lick and paw at her until she finally managed to tell him to get off of herself. When she did finally get a breath, her face was effectively covered in slobber and there was a glare in her eyes.

“You bitch,” she growled as she got up and smacked Anya with a pillow, “I just about had a heart attack.”

“But you didn’t, now did you?” Anya smirked. “Don’t come near me, you’ve got slobber all over you.

Raven smirked and wiped her cheek off on her hand, and before Anya could stumble away, Raven’s hand had smeared slobber all over her face.

“Ew, oh my god-“ Anya cried out, but Raven was relentless.

“My god, you guys are disgusting.”

Both Raven and Anya froze when they heard Lexa’s voice, and found her and Clarke standing in the doorway of their bedroom.

“Anya used your dog as a weapon.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You must’ve dreamt it,” Anya smirked. “Now go wash off your face, dinner’s ready.”

 

* * *

 

There were four of them sitting at the ten-seat table in Clarke and Lexa’s dining room. Though the dining room wasn’t very spacious, and the table took up much of the space, they appeared very small, occupying little of the space they had.

“This is delicious,” Clarke complimented. “Didn’t know you could cook, Anya.”

“Had to learn,” Anya shrugged, “Since this idiot is a fire hazard.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know my job consists – consisted – of handling hazardous items on a daily basis.”

“Yes, and you gave yourself second-degree burns that one time.”

“It was one time,” Raven grumbled, looking to Lexa and Clarke as though to reassure them. “Just a small accident.”

“Yeah, Anya told me about it.”

“I know she did. She won’t shut up about it.”

“Raven, you dropped a blow-torch on your leg,” Anya said coolly as she helped herself to seconds. “While it was locked in position.”

“It was an accident. And besides, I’ll have a cool scar in a few months once it heals over properly.”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore?” Clarke asked.

“Nah, just very itchy. And Anya won’t let me scratch it.”

“You’re like a child with chicken pox,” Lexa commented. “Do you need oven mitts?”

“No, I do not.”

Clarke laughed. “I’m so glad you’re here, you know. The house feels a bit more alive.”

“Wait till all our shit arrives,” Raven told her. “Then we’ll fill up those empty rooms.”

“Your couch is going up in the attic.”

Raven frowned at Lexa. “Are you shunning my beautiful couch?”

“I’d say it’s a health risk.”

“It’s my favorite thing in the whole entire world.”

“And here I thought it was your car-“

“Gloria. She’s got a name,” Raven interjected. “And yes, she’s my most favorite thing. But I love that couch. I say we vote.”

“I love it too,” Clarke admitted. “It’s damn comfy.”

“The couch stays,” Anya sighed, knowing Raven would surely murder her if she didn't take her side. “I vote for it too.”

“Why, Anya, why-?” Lexa groaned. “Have you even seen it?”

Before Anya could respond, Raven smirked and said: “Lexa, I can guarantee, Anya’s made very close acquaintance with my couch.”

There were consequent groans from all three of the girls.

“Raven, you’re a lewd piece of ass.”

“That’s why you love me.”

“Sure, that’s exactly why.”

A while later they were lounging in the living room, none of them really feeling tired – Anya and Raven were heavily jetlagged and having just slept for a day or so, they were more than energetic.

They talked for a long while, with Raven and Anya going into depth about the things they’d experienced during their year in Papua New Guinea and the consecutive gig they’d taken in Malawi – Malawi had been a spontaneous decision, made on a whim in the span of two days, but Clarke saw the excitement burning in Raven’s eyes when she talked about the work she’d done there and knew that it’d been more than worth having to miss her for another year.

“And now, with my experience, I think I’ll get an actual job in my field – there’s an opening in December with this guy Malcolm who I met in Papua New Guinea. He’s in car design and development, but the company he works for does all sorts of things. It’d be a dream to get that job,” Raven sighed. "I hope I do."

“And you’ll get it,” Clarke assured her. “You’re brilliant.”

“That I am.”

“Humble, I see,” Lexa commented. “But didn’t you say you already had a job here?”

Raven nodded. “Sinclair’s brother’s wife’s cousin owns an autoshop, conveniently enough here in San Francisco. I’ll be wielding a wrench in no time.”

Anya smiled proudly and gave her a little nudge. “Wrench monkey.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? You’re an idiot like a monkey and you’re always wielding a damn wrench.”

“Am not.”

“Raven, you almost brought one on the plane because you forgot it in your pocket.”

“That was just a humane mishap,” Raven shrugged. “And besides, a wrench is always useful.”

Anya lifted Raven’s hand upwards a little to show the tool bracelet she’d given her over two years prior. “This isn’t enough?”

“You still have that?” Clarke asked. “I thought you said you lost it.”

“I did, but then I found it. Anya would’ve murdered me if it’d been gone for good, so I spent almost two days scouring the camp for it.”

After an hour or so, Clarke and Lexa retired to bed, leaving Anya and Raven to their own devices. They spent a few hours sitting around watching TV and relishing the wonders of actually functional internet, and they did try their hand at sleeping again – but tossing and turning in bed only turned to writhing and squirming in bed, though neither of them really complained.

At around four in the morning Raven suddenly darted up and out of Anya’s arms, surprising her.

“Raven, what-?”

“I have an idea,” Raven said. “Put your clothes on.”

“What idea?”

“Just trust me,” Raven told her, tossing some clothes at her. “It’ll be great.”

Anya didn’t ask too many questions – she got dressed and followed Raven out of the room and downstairs, and after a bit of fumbling they found Clarke’s car keys.

“Raven, what are you doing?”

“We’re taking a little drive.”

“Where to?”

Raven shrugged. “I want to see the sun rise. And the Golden Gate Bridge. Why not do both?”

As the sun rose over the bay and the city, Anya slid her arms around Raven’s waist and drew her near, leaning back against the car’s hood and allowing Raven to lean on her. The fog was still lingering over the water, and amidst the fog there arose the bright red bridge, more of a symbol than a real thing.

“This is surreal,” Raven said quietly. “I’m up at sunrise.”

Anya let out a laugh. “That is a feat indeed.”

“What’s more weird is that _you’re_ up at this time.”

Anya rested her head on Raven’s shoulder. “We’ll adjust here,” she murmured. “We’ll live here. No more tents and barracks.”

“And no more crappy internet. God, I missed Netflix.”

“Thank the heavens I won’t have to listen to your moaning about how much you miss Netflix anymore.”

“And here I thought you liked to hear me moan.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Reyes, you’re unbelievable.”

“Oh, we’re to Reyes, are we?” Raven asked, turning around in Anya’s arms to pin her against the hood of the car. “Thought you wanted to just look at the view.”

Anya shrugged and sought out Raven’s lips, kissing them lightly before opening her mouth again.

“It’s a pretty view,” she admitted, “But you’re a much better one. Especially when you’re all…sprawled out and well fucked.”

“Oh, dirty talk,” Raven said giddily. “Someone’s worked up.”

Anya just rolled her eyes. “Raven, you’re a child.”

“Am not.”

“Can you ever go a day without cracking a joke?”

Raven shrugged and slid her hand around Anya’s neck, pulling her in for a kiss – she was smiling as she slipped her tongue into Anya’s mouth, and Anya knew it wasn’t a smile but a smirk.

“I guess I can’t,” Raven shrugged.

When they returned to the house at about five in the morning, Fish barked so loudly it woke Clarke and Lexa up for the briefest of moments.

Lexa turned to her side to sleep a little longer, but was distracted by Clarke’s hand shaking her shoulder.

“Lexa.”

“Hmh?”

“I had a weird dream.”

Lexa turned over to look at Clarke. “A bad one?”

“No, a good one.”

“What was it about?”

“I…we were living here, in this house. With Raven and Anya, and with Octavia and Lincoln, and kids – I’m not sure whose kids, but there was like a billion of them.”

“That sounds nice,” Lexa yawned. “We could fit a few more in here.”

“Seriously?”

“We’ve got ten seats at our dining table,” Lexa shrugged, yawning again. “Four occupied so far.”

Clarke smiled and laid her head back onto the pillow, shutting her eyes again. “Four so far,” she mumbled as she slipped back into sleep. “Four.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these horny lil cuties are killing me  
> four down, four to go (and even more to be born/adopted)  
> next chapter we'll see even more developments with the house and some plot is introduced too so get excited for that


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's mayday's eve and im drunk and so i ended up writing this instead of being a sociable human being  
> it's great though, so enjoy

“Lincoln, babe- you home?”

Lincoln waved his hand from where he was laying on the couch, watching reruns of Friends. “How was work?”

Octavia grinned. “I’ve got some news.”

The excitement in her voice was enough to prompt Lincoln to turn the TV off and sit up so that she could sit down next to him. “You sound reasonably happy…good news?”

Octavia nodded. “You know that transfer that I applied for a few months back?”

“Yeah, the one in San Francisco?”

“I got it.”

“Really!?”

Octavia nodded. “Unless you don’t want to, of course-“

“No, no. Yes. Let’s go.”

“Really?”

Lincoln leaned in to kiss her cheek and smiled. “Look, after I sold my shares in the Ark, I’ve been bored out of my mind. A change would be nice.”

Octavia smiled. “I still can’t believe you did that, though.”

“It was good money. And a lot of it, too.”

“But you loved that bar.”

“I love having _a_ bar. With what I got for my share, I can start my own in San Francisco.”

Octavia smiled. “I didn’t think it’d happen so quick,” she began, “And it’ll be awesome, with Clarke and Lexa and Raven and Anya there. But there’s more.”

“More?”

Lincoln looked at Octavia and saw she was teeming with excitement – she was practically bursting with it, her eyes concealing a secret that he now was burning to hear about.

“What is it? Tell me.”

“Guess.”

“You know I’m not very good at that.”

Octavia shrugged. “Take a guess anyway.”

“You got a raise?”

Octavia shook her head and grinned.

“A company car?”

Another shake of head.

“Look, babe, I really don’t know.”

That was when Octavia suddenly threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, surprising him entirely with just how quick it happened. Suddenly she was in his lap, and of course, he had no qualms with it – but to Lincoln, it felt almost as though Octavia was trying to distract him, make him wait even longer to find out what her secret was.

“Tell me.”

“You should be able to guess.”

“Honestly, Octavia, I can’t.”

The smile on Octavia’s face was so wide her cheeks hurt, and so she finally indulged and leaned in to whisper in Lincoln’s ear.

“I’m pregnant.”

The man beneath her froze for a split second, and he pulled Octavia back to look at her face, searching for any sign of it being just a joke.

“You’re not kidding?”

“Nope.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yep.”

And then Lincoln laughed and hugged her, pulled her as close as he could, his heart bursting with love and excitement and sheer joy. “Oh my god,” he gasped, “This is amazing!”

Octavia laughed when she saw the child-like joy in her husband’s eyes. She’d known for a little over a week, but had waited till she had official confirmation from the doctor to tell him.

“But wait, wait,” Lincoln stopped abruptly. “What about your job? The transfer?”

“I’m only a few weeks along, so I’ll keep working as long as I can, and then go on maternity leave. I’ve already discussed this with my future boss, and she’s more than fine with it.”

“That’s…Octavia, that’s amazing.”

“I know.”

“This is amazing. You’re amazing.”

Octavia grinned. “I know.”

“We should have dinner.”

“Yeah, I’m starving. There's chicken in the fridge-”

“No, I mean a fancy dinner. I’ll call Pierre’s and see if they can arrange a table for us. We have to celebrate.”

 

* * *

 

Three weeks later, four became six.

It was only for that night, for a welcome dinner at the house for Octavia and Lincoln – they’d gotten a small apartment courtesy of Skaigroup Security Co. downtown. It was small, just one bedroom and a kitchen, but the rent was cheap and it was located conveniently close to the corporation’s offices.

When they rang the doorbell, there was a bark and the scramble of feet towards the door, and then, it burst open. Raven darted out immediately and threw her arms around Octavia, almost tipping her over, and Lincoln threw an arm back to catch them both from falling off the porch.

“I’m so glad you’re here!”

Octavia laughed. “I am too, Raven.”

“How was your flight?”

“It was fine,” Octavia shrugged. She wasn’t going to mention the fact that she’d been sick most of the flight – evidently, the baby wasn’t a fan of flying. She’d spent half her time heaving in the bathroom and was now starving.

She was seven weeks along and barely showed, and she and Lincoln exchanged a glance as they stepped inside and were greeted with the delicious scent of Lexa’s infamous parmesan chicken.

“When do we tell them?” Lincoln asked in a quiet voice as they hung up their coats.

“Not yet,” Octavia said. “After dinner, when it’s nice and quiet.”

But there wasn’t much quiet to go around – when they emerged from the foyer, there were hugs all around, and then they sat down for dinner and a lot of talking to do. It was delicious and Octavia ate a lot, even so much for Raven to point it out – with a glare, Octavia shot her down, and no one really paid much mind to it.

They chatted on about their work and the upcoming October festival in the farmer’s market nearby, and how they were all going to go. They talked about their work, and the discussion was light and fun.

When Lexa offered Octavia a glass of wine, she declined.

“Not today,” Octavia smiled. “I had a painkiller a while ago, don’t want to mix anything.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as she proceeded to pour Lincoln a glass.

“What’s for dessert?” Clarke asked, looking to Lexa for answers. “Something good, I hope?”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “That, my love, you’ll have to ask Raven. She was in charge.”

“Raven? Oh, god-“

Raven smirked. “Don’t worry, all I did was go down to the bakery and get us a pie. I didn’t have any hand in the making of it, unless you count the whipped cream.”

“Oh thank god, I’m so not in for food poisoning today.”

“You guys wanna move out to the deck? It’s nice and cool, and we’ve got blankets.”

The group did so, and settled around the picnic table – the sun had already set, and Raven went over to put on the strings of lights she’d set up over the deck and across the yard. The lights glowed like little suns in the early autumn night, and it was indeed a little cool.

Anya was wrapped up in a blanket, shivering, and naturally, Raven was making fun of her for being so chilly.

“Just because you’ve got fire running through your veins instead of blood doesn’t mean you’re impermeable to cold,” Anya muttered.

“I just find it ironic, since they call your mom the Ice Queen,” Raven snickered. "You're always cold."

“We’ve spent two years in the tropics where it never got cold. How are you not shivering?”

Raven shrugged and raised her empty wine glass. “Plenty of alcohol inhibiting my brain from realizing I’m cold.”

There were a few snickers of laughter, and Raven shot them a glare – but then she felt Anya’s arms pull her into her lap, and the blanket was wrapped around her, and she let out a whine of protest.

“You made me drop my fork.”

“Leave it,” Clarke said. “It’s probably full of ants already.”

Raven pouted and reached over for Anya’s fork instead. “Now, O, you’ve been very quiet. How’s everything? Excited to kick some ass on the new job?”

Octavia let out a laugh. “For the last time, I don’t kick ass. I protect ass.”

“An honourable duty,” Clarke declared. “You should be awarded a medal.”

“You know, actually…” Octavia began. “I- we, we’ve got some news.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

Octavia glanced at Lincoln, who took her hand and gave it a little squeeze.

“Octavia, please don’t keep us in suspense. Tell us what the news is.”

“I’m pregnant.”

There was a heavy moment of silence, which was broken at almost the same time by Clarke and Raven, both of whom said - well, cried out - the same thing.

“Holy shit!”

Octavia laughed, as did Lincoln, and Lexa smiled – she’d suspected it, from the way Octavia had rested her hand on her belly after dinner and how she’d declined a wine they’d _known_ was her favorite. And perhaps there’d been a hunch, too, a gut feeling about it, and so she wasn’t as surprised as her wife, who was staring at Octavia in awe.

“That’s amazing, O- right? It _is_ a good thing?”

“Yes, it’s…yeah. We’re happy,” Octavia smiled, squeezing Lincoln’s hand and looking at him with her eyes full of joy. "Came as a surprise, but...well, it's not like it was an accident. We've been trying for a few months."

"That's awesome," Raven said. "Congrats, Lincoln. And O, too."

“Is the pact still in place?”

Lexa furrowed her brows and looked at Clarke. “What pact?”

“Oh, the godmother pact,” Clarke explained, “I’ll be Octavia’s kid’s godmother, she’ll be Raven’s kid’s godmother, and Raven will be mine. That way no one gets left out.”

“But only if it’s a girl,” Octavia reminded her. “If it’s a boy, Bell’s going to be the godfather. I haven’t told him yet, and I won’t, not unless it’s a boy.”

“You want to see him weep, don’t you?” Raven asked.

Octavia smirked. “Maybe.”

“You sneaky bitch.”

Anya, who had thus far been silent, leaned her head on Raven’s shoulder. “How far along are you?”

“Just under eight weeks.”

“Do you have doctor already? My colleagues, one of them, she’s really nice. Very good at what she does. I could get you two an appointment.”

“That’d be great,” Lincoln smiled, turning to look at Octavia. “Wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, we’ve been looking but it’s so confusing.”

“St. Luke’s maternity ward has the best coffee,” Anya told them. “And the nurses are only half as annoying as usual.”

“We’ll take your word for it.”

Raven turned her head a bit to look at her. “Is this Niylah you’re talking about?”

“Yes, why?”

“I don’t like her.”

“Raven, we’re not having another talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” Clarke asked.

“About how the bitch in pink scrubs had the nerve to ask Anya out,” Raven grumbled.

“I didn’t say yes-“

“I know you didn’t, if you had, I would’ve murdered you. But still.”

"It's not like I asked her."

"She still assumed you were single and went for it. Not cool."

“You jealous little thing,” Octavia teased. “All worked up over your woman getting attention.”

“That’s right,” Raven grinned. “My woman. So hands off.”

Octavia raised her hand to show off her ring. “Married, remember? You two are the only couple not hitched up.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Well, if marriage means turning into gross piles of mush like you and Lincoln or the pair of cheese next to us, then we’ll pass.”

“Pass? Really?" Anya asked curiously, the tone of her voice having just a slight touch of taunt. "And here I thought you liked the idea of me being yours. No one asks out a woman with a ring on her finger.”

“Anya, are you asking me to propose to you here right now?”

“God, no,” Anya scoffed. “Stop twisting my words around.”

Raven just laughed and took another bite of pie. “Now, here’s an important question. How are you going to fit a baby into that one-bedroom apartment you’ve got?”

Octavia’s eyes widened, as did Lincoln’s – neither of them had really considered it.

“Um, I guess we’ll find a new place.”

“Better start now. If the baby’s coming in eight months or so, you want to be settled in by the time it comes,” Clarke said.

“We’ll see.”

“Also, you might not want to call our baby an ‘it’,” Lincoln told her.

“Then what do I say? Do I just keep saying ‘the baby’?”

“Or just baby.”

“Well, I’ll call it little Blake.”

“Sure, go for it.”

After a while, Lincoln and Octavia were driven home by Raven, leaving the remaining three to sit around in the backyard in comfortable, if not a little stunned, silence. Anya left a moment later, mumbling something about taking a shower, leaving Clarke and Lexa sitting alone on the deck.

“They’re going to have a baby,” Clarke finally said quietly.

“It’s weird.”

“We’re at that age. We’ve gotten old.”

Clarke sounded almost stunned, and Lexa let out a laugh.

“Well, you _are_ 27 years old now. You’re closer to 30 than you are to 20.”

“God, don’t remind me," Clarke grumbled. “The first wrinkle I get, I’ll probably cry.”

“I’ll make sure to kiss it extra softly and show it all the love in the world.”

“See, stuff like that is why Raven keeps calling us a pair of cheese.”

“Takes two to be cheesy,” Lexa murmured as she leaned in for a kiss. “Need I remind you of the candlelit dinner you took me to just two weeks ago?”

“What? There just happened to be candles?”

“And the red roses were just an accident? Or the love poem you slipped into my lunch in the morning before?”

“Ok, at least I didn’t write the poem myself.”

“Are you saying you don’t like my poetry?”

Clarke rolled her eyes and silenced her with a kiss. “Of course I do. I’m just saying it’s cringe-worthingly cheesy, too.”

“Well, you’re stuck with me, so might as well deal with the cheesiness.”

“Can we stop talking about cheese? I’m so full I never want to see food again.”

Lexa let out a laugh and rested her head on Clarke’s shoulder, giving her tummy a gentle rub. “There’s going to be a baby around in eight months,” she said after a while.

She didn’t continue, but Clarke knew what she meant.

“Is this your way of saying we should have the baby talk?”

Lexa turned her head to meet Clarke’s eyes, her green eyes shimmering in the light of the evening. “Yes. Soon, at least.”

“Well, let’s have it now,” Clarke said, turning on the bench so that she could face Lexa. “How many kids?”

“You want me to just give you a number?”

“Yes. Mine’s two. You?”

“I…I don’t know, two? Three? I don’t care.”

“Okay, so we’ve established that,” Clarke smiled. “When?”

“Not yet.”

Clarke nodded in agreement. “I only just got a promotion at the gallery, and you’ve got your hands full with the upcoming expansion of the offices here.”

Lexa nodded too. “Maybe in a year, or two.”

“A year at least, I want to have my first show before we have a kid.”

“Then that won’t be long,” Lexa smiled. “I’m sure you’ll get one soon.”

Clarke shrugged and rested her hand on Lexa’s knee, her fingers tapping at her skin gently. “Now, here’s the million-dollar question: how?”

“How?”

“Yeah, how.”

“You mean like, insemination or adoption, or…?”

“Yeah, like that.”

“What do you want?”

Clarke shrugged. “A kid. I don’t care how.”

“I don’t either.”

“Didn’t you once say you really wanted to carry a baby?”

Lexa shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Do you?”

“I guess. I’d have to think more thoroughly about it, but…it just seems so incredible.”

Clarke smiled. “I’d have a whiny pissy wife with backaches and the strangest cravings for nine months. I can handle that.”

Lexa gave Clarke’s arm a little smack. “I’m sure I wouldn’t be that bad.”

“Ok, so you’d want to carry? A biological kid?”

“I would, but…it wouldn’t be your kid, then, not-“

“Actually, it could be my kid.”

“What?”

“You seem to have forgotten my mom’s a doctor,” Clarke smirked. “And so I know everything about medical matters, or, well, not everything…but you get my point.”

“Get to the point, Clarke.”

“Two women can conceive, Lexa. It’s not common, it’s only been around for about a decade and there’s still risks involved, but…it’s possible.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“So you’d want my seed growing in your womb?”

Lexa cringed. “That sounds gross.”

“What, seed?”

“Shut up.”

Clarke just laughed. “But how about adoption, though?”

“I wouldn’t object to that, either. There’s plenty of kids in need of a home.”

“I’ve always kinda wanted to do a foster adoption,” Clarke sighed. “Not sure why. I guess it’s just…they need homes. Well, all kids in foster care or orphanages need homes, but…I don’t know.”

Lexa took Clarke’s hand into hers and gave it a little squeeze. “It’s sweet. And I’d love that.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“We could become foster parents next year, then. We’ve got a nice house and plenty of room, and a nice yard, and the school district’s top notch, too-“

“You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” Lexa grinned.

“Maybe.”

“You’re always a step ahead,” Lexa murmured as she drew Clarke in for a kiss. “And I hate and love you for that.”

“But mostly love, right?”

“Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, in this ficverse two women can conceive a baby through stem cell therapy thingies and it's reliable and not at all an experimental procedure  
> linctavia baby is happening and lincoln is an adorable flower child whom i enjoy writing very much  
> also, as i've established, jealous raven is my ultimate fave and there'll be plenty more of that to come  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've almost survived my exams and this chapter's been AGES in the making (aka about a week of writing during my 20-minute study breaks)

Ten weeks later, Octavia went in for her first ultrasound.

They borrowed Raven’s car, because Lincoln refused to allow his pregnant wife to get on her Harley - he had no intentions of allowing her to risk both her life and the babys’ driving around in what he called the ‘ride of Doom’.

Octavia, though pretending that she was begrudged, agreed. She was growing more and more in love with the little thing growing inside her womb, and she had a ferocious desire to protect it. If that meant denying herself the pleasure of riding her Harley, she was more than happy to do so.

On their way into the hospital, they ran into Anya. She smiled, and pointed them to the direction of the O.B.&Gyn, and then hurried off, muttering something about fractured ribs and punctured spleens.

“You ready?” Octavia asked when they sat down to wait to be called.

Lincoln gave her hand a little squeeze. “Are we really going to find out today?”

“I hope so.”

“And we want to know?”

“Yes, I want to know which one I have to ask to be the godparent.”

Lincoln nodded, and couldn’t resist the temptation to place his hand over the little bump on Octavia’s belly. She was showing a lot already, and each time he saw her, his chest swelled with love and pride.

“Which one do you hope it is?”

Lincoln looked at his wife, and shrugged. “I don’t care, so long as the kid’s into soccer.”

Octavia laughed and gave him a little nudge. “What if the baby’s not athletic at all?”

“Look at us. Do you really think that’s possible?”

“It is. I don’t want you putting any unnecessary pressure on our kid.”

“Fine, fine. But I’m still going to buy my kiddo a lil jersey.”

“Of course you are.”

A nurse came into the waiting room and called their names. “Mr. & Mrs. Blake?”

“And that’s our cue,” Lincoln said, getting up and offering Octavia a hand.

She refused it, of course. “I’m not massively pregnant yet, Linc, I’ll handle myself until I can’t.”

Lincoln just smiled and followed her to the examination room.

* * *

They’d already met Dr. Niylah Browne once before, at their first prenatal meeting, and so no introductions were necessary. They ran a few tests, talked about Octavia’s health, discussed her excessive morning sickness and scheduled some more tests, and then, it was time for the ultrasound.

“And…here’s your baby,” Dr. Browne said, pointing at the screen.

Octavia looked at the smudge on the screen. It barely looked like anything, but she could still see it, and tears welled up in her eyes.

Beside her, Lincoln wiped away a tear.

“Would you like to know the sex?”

They both nodded, and the doctor shifted the instrument a little to get a better look. “Oh.”

“Oh? That doesn’t sound good. What’s wrong?” Octavia asked quickly, her grip of Lincoln’s hand tightening.

“Nothing’s wrong, Mrs. Blake.”

“Then what-?”

“Looks like you’re having twins.”

Octavia didn’t at first comprehend what the doctor had said. Lincoln, on the other hand, let his jaw drop.

“Oh my god.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No,” the doctor smiled, “That’s your other baby right there. A boy and a girl, by the looks of it. The boy’s right there, he was hiding behind his sister.”

Octavia looked at the screen, wiped a few tears from her eyes, and saw two smudges where there’d only been one.

“I’ll leave you two here for a bit.”

They were left alone in the examination room, and for a long while, neither of them spoke.

“Twins?” Octavia finally said. She looked at Lincoln, panic in her eyes, and stammered: “I wasn’t even sure I could handle one kid, can we handle two?”

Lincoln just laughed and gave her a kiss. “Yes, we can.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely.”

“I can’t even – two kids?”

“A boy _and_ a girl. Looks like you get to ask both Clarke and Bellamy to be godparents.”

Octavia shook her head. “This is insane, I don’t- are you sure we can handle two kids?”

“We’re already this far. We’ll handle them, I promise,” Lincoln assured her.

“We can’t even fit them in our little apartment.”

“We’ll find a solution. A new apartment.”

“We can’t afford a bigger apartment.”

“We’ll find a way, Octavia. We’ll be just fine, all four of us.”

Octavia laughed then, a half-hearted, exasperated laugh. “Oh my god, there’s going to be two babies coming out of my vagina.”

“I’ll be there as moral support every step of the way,” Lincoln promised. “And I promise I’ll do all the night wake-ups for the first month. You’re doing all the hard work now anyway, it’s only fair.”

“Two months.”

“Fine, two months.”

“Great.”

“Two kids.”

* * *

They went down to 1040 Lavender Crescent later that evening for dinner with their friends. The whole point of the dinner had been to announce the baby, show off the sonogram and tell everyone the sex.

When they came in, there was a group of people just waiting, burning to know, and Octavia had no idea how to say it.

“Well, who is it? Bellamy or me?” Clarke asked, coming over to give Octavia a hug.

Octavia let out a nervous laugh, and glanced at Lincoln. “You wanna tell them?”

“Can I?”

“Go for it.”

Lincoln looked around, at their group of friends, and slid an arm around his wife’s waist as he smiled and said: “It’s both.”

That only resulted in confused looks. “Both…what?”

“There’s two babies,” Octavia amended, shooting Lincoln an annoyed look. “A boy, and a girl.”

“Oh my god, twins?” Raven cried.

There were congratulations all around, and Raven went over to give Lincoln a high five. “Not even surprised that you’re hyper-fertile, my man.”

“Actually,” Anya interjected, “Since it’s a boy and a girl, that means two eggs got fertilized. So, really, the hyper-fertile one is Octavia.”

Raven looked at Anya, as did everyone else – Anya just shrugged. “I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Congrats, O,” Raven grinned, giving her a high five too. She then bent down to give her belly a little kiss, and said quietly: “And you two, I’m the cool aunt. I know I’m not your godmother but I’ll teach you both how to skateboard and how to do all sorts of cool things-“

“Completely legal things, I hope?” Octavia asked.

“Yes, yes, of course.”

But Raven winked at Octavia’s belly, and Octavia rolled her eyes. “Can we eat? I’m starving.”

“Of course.”

Somewhere amidst the dinner conversation, the talk steered back towards the upcoming birth of not one but two babies, and once again, Octavia’s concerns arose.

“I seriously don’t know how we’ll fit two babies,” she explained. “It’s a tiny apartment.”

As the rest of the group ensued to discuss the possibilities of finding them a new place, Clarke glanced at Lexa, and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“We could fit them here.”

Lexa’s eyes widened, and she looked at Clarke in surprise. “You think?”

Clarke nodded. “We could. If you’re okay with that?”

“We can’t just make decisions like that, though, we need to consult Anya and Raven, too.”

“You talk to Anya, I’ll talk to Raven,” Clarke whispered back.

“What are you two whispering about?” Octavia asked curiously.

“Nothing, just arguing about who’s turn it’s to do the dishes,” Lexa said quickly. “Go on, Clarke. Told you it's your turn.”

“Raven, a little help?” Clarke asked as she stood up and began gathering the plates.

Raven groaned, but helped nevertheless.

The instant they were out of earshot, Clarke turned around and gave her a serious look. “Ok, insane idea, but – what if we invite Octavia and Lincoln to live here?”

Raven stared at her for a moment. “Oh my god, that’d be awesome.”

“You think?”

“Yes! There’s more than enough room.”

Clarke let out a sigh of relief. “D’you think Anya’ll say yes, too?”

“I can ask-?”

Just then, Lexa came into the kitchen, and gave Clarke a thumbs up. “Anya said yes. Raven?”

“Totally yes, 100%.”

“Who wants to tell them?”

“Tell us what?”

Octavia was standing behind them, and they all whirled around at the same time, stammering for an answer. Lexa didn’t say anything, she just looked at Clarke, as did Raven, and Clarke cleared her throat before speaking.

“Ok, so you have a housing dilemma – yes?”

“Yeah, we literally talked about it for like twenty minutes back there.”

“Why don’t you come live here?”

Octavia was so surprised she almost dropped the plate she was holding. “Here?”

“Yeah, here. There’s plenty of room.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Oh my god- Lincoln!”

Lincoln came in a few moments later, and looked at everyone in confusion. Anya came in too after him, and so they all stood in the kitchen when Octavia told Lincoln about Clarke’s offer.

“Here?”

“Yep.”

“That’d be…”

“Amazing,” Octavia finished for him. “At least, I’d love to-“

“I would too. If that’s really okay?”

“Yes, we’ve said it’s okay a thousand times.”

“On one condition, though,” Raven said. “Well, two.”

“Two?”

“One, I get to drive your Harley at some point.”

“So long as you don’t wreck it,” Octavia nodded.

“I won’t. Oh, and two, you take the third floor. Anya and I will go to the attic.”

Anya turned to look at Raven, bewildered. “And you just decided I didn’t get a say in this?”

“They’re having two kids, Anya – there’s only one big room in the attic thus far. We can renovate it later if we want, but I think those two need the bathroom adjacent to the third floor bedroom more than we do.”

Anya furrowed her brows, and so Raven continued: “And there’s two rooms on the third floor, they can make those nurseries – come on Anya, please say yes, I’d love to live in the attic, we can make it our own space and paint it and-“

“I like our room, though.”

“Hey, guys, we can totally take the attic-“ Octavia began, but Raven raised a hand.

“No, Anya, listen to this.”

She leaned in, very close, and whispered one little thing into Anya’s ear that made her eyes widen.

“There’s a hook on one of the beams,” Raven whispered. “Could be useful for some…restraining, don’t you think? If I ever do something especially naughty?”

Everyone else dared not even think what Raven had said to Anya, because the next second Anya had changed her mind entirely.

“We’ll take the attic.”

“Okay, so it’s settled, you two are going to join the Mothership, and there’s going to be babies,” Lexa smiled widely.

“The Mothership?”

“That’s what Raven calls the house,” Lexa said.

“Since it’s not really the Griffin household, and ‘the Reyes-Griffin-Lachman household’ is way too long,” Raven explained. "Hence, the Mothership."

“And why’s your last name first?” Clarke asked.

“Because I always get picked first, that’s why.”

Just then, Octavia’s phone rang.

“It’s Bellamy,” she said. “He’s got off work, I’m going to give him the good news.”

She moved out of the kitchen into the living room, leaving the rest of the household to bicker over whose last name should go first, and answered her phone.

“Hey, Bell.”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine, B.”

“Morning sickness? Headaches?”

“Yes, but that’s normal.”

“How’d the doctor’s visit go?”

“It went really well…actually, I want you to sit down.”

“I’m sitting down.”

“Ok, there’s two things. First, they’re twins.”

“Twins!?”

Octavia gave Bellamy a few seconds to gather his thoughts before continuing.

“Yep, twins, a boy and a girl…which is my second thing. I want you to be the boy’s godfather.”

There was a moment of silence, and then, Octavia could’ve sworn she heard a sniffle.

“Are you crying?”

“No.”

“You’re crying.”

“I’m not crying-“

“No, he’s definitely crying,” Murphy called out from somewhere further away. Octavia laughed, and Bellamy groaned.

“Okay, maybe a little, but-“

“I get it, B. But will you do it?”

“That’s a dumb question, of course I will!”

“That’s great, Bell. Also, guess what?”

“What?”

“We’re moving in with Clarke and Lexa, and Raven and Anya.”

“What?”

“The house.”

“Why?”

“We’re having twins, B. There’s no room in our shoebox apartment for twins. And there’s a yard here, so hopefully, one of these two will be into soccer and Lincoln will get to play with them.”

“The kid’s a Blake, O – both of them. They’ll be great at every sport known to man.”

“We’ll see.”

* * *

“You know how you said we’d just have to adopt ten kids?”

Clarke glanced at Lexa and nodded. “Yeah?”

It was a week after Octavia's big twins-news, and they were moving the two of them into the house.

“This is kinda like adopting,” Lexa grunted as she hoisted a heavy box into her arms. “Except we’re adopting all your friends.”

“Our friends.”

“Yes, yes- watch your step, babe.”

Clarke looked down and saw she’d almost tripped over a rolled rug. “Oh, yeah. But you’re still fine with this, right?”

“Are you kidding? Of course.”

“You sure?”

Lexa stopped for a second to look at her incredulously. “Clarke, my whole life I’ve spent living in huge houses with just me, my parents, and staff. I love the idea of having a house full of friends living with us.”

Clarke let out a laugh when Lexa almost dropped the box and went over to help. “Careful.”

“They’re just books,” Octavia called out from her seat on the porch. “Doesn’t matter if you drop it.”

Lexa just rolled her eyes and picked up the box again to carry it.

Everyone else was helping with carrying all the furniture and boxes in, save for Octavia – there’d been a collective vote, and all except Octavia had voted for her _not_ to risk any injury by sitting safely on the porch with some iced tea, overseeing everything.

She’d grumbled something about her not being an invalid, but sat down in the lawn chair Lincoln had carried out for her without too much protest. Her time she then spent ordering everyone around, making sure her mother’s fancy china was handled properly and that the hideous dog-statue Bellamy had bought her as a joke was taken care of.

Raven carried – well, dragged – the last item, a wrapped up rug, from the van, and then, it was all done.

Of course, all the furniture was just piled in the middle of the third floor landing, but they were still essentially moved in.

Clarke had ordered pizza, and they all sat on the deck out back and ate and talked, and celebrated the newcomers to the Mothership.

Raven made far too many jokes about Octavia being a literal mothership, leading up to the point where Octavia smacked her over the head with an empty pizza box. Not very hard, the box made a loud hollow noise but Raven wasn’t hurt in any way, and Anya certainly had a good laugh before going over to kiss the top of her head and to tell her that she should learn not to piss off the pregnant lady.

“It’s not the pregnancy that’s making her like this, that’s just O,” Raven replied.

For that, she received a smack on the arm from Octavia. “Shut up, I’m housing two human beings in my womb. A miracle, mind you.”

“Yes, it definitely is,” Clarke agreed.

Lexa nodded too, as did Lincoln.

“I never said it wasn’t a miracle,” Raven muttered. “Just thought that it was a funny joke.”

“It was funny the first ten times.”

“Fine, fine, don’t appreciate my jokes - my life’s passion.”

“Speaking of life’s passion,” Clarke interrupted. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I’m getting my own show at the gallery.”

“No. Really?”

Only Lexa had known beforehand, and so there was shock all around the table.

“You’re not kidding?”

Clarke laughed and shook her head. “Nope.”

“Oh my god, Clarke, that’s huge!” Raven cried. She got up and went over to hug her, as did Octavia, and for a while, there was just laughter and hugs.

“The only downside is that I have to cooperate with this absolute _bitch_ of an assistant, but it’s still worth it.”

“I’ll kick her ass if it comes down to it,” Raven promised.

“And you’re all obligated to come to the opening. Except you, Octavia, it’s around your due date so of course if you’re in labor you’re exempt.”

“What about me?” Lincoln asked.

Clarke laughed and waved a hand. “Fine, fine, you can go watch your babies be born, but the rest of you are going to be there.”

Lexa was looking at her, smiling brightly, prouder of her than ever. Clarke saw, and returned the smile, and for a moment, it was as though the two of them had forgotten they weren’t alone.

“Lexa, you’ve got hearteyes again,” Anya teased, giving her a little nudge.

Lexa just frowned and took another bite of her pizza. “Shut up, don’t pretend like you haven’t been giving Raven the god-knows-what-eyes this entire time.”

Raven let out a laugh. “It’s not her fault, she can’t help it – I’m wearing a tank top.”

“I haven’t been making eyes.”

“Oh, yes you have.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Ok, perhaps, fine. But you wore that shirt on purpose, you _know_ it’s essentially see-through.”

“Anything for you.”

“Ok, guys, gross,” Octavia groaned. “Get a room.”

“Can’t, you took ours,” Raven quipped back.

“You have the entire attic.”

“True.”

“And a bed there.”

“Very true…” Raven raised her eyebrows at Anya. “Wanna go check out our new bedroom?”

“Raven, we are not making plans for that with everyone here.”

“I was thinking about sleeping, you dirty-minded bitch.”

“I think,” Lexa interjected, “That we should _all_ go to bed. It’s like midnight.”

“Sounds fair enough.”

Raven and Anya got to their bed and certainly did not go straight to sleep. However, thanks to the thick walls of the house, their fun was kept private for the two of them.

“You’re sure they can’t hear?” Raven gasped as Anya moved on downwards.

“I’m positive,” Anya murmured, her lips grazing Raven’s hipbone before giving it a soft kiss. “But if you’re unsure, muffle yourself in the pillow. I’m not stopping you.”

Raven rolled her eyes, but that was when Anya’s mouth found it’s home in between her legs, and all else slipped away.

“As if I’d deny myself this sight,” she mumbled amidst waves of pleasure. “As if.”

Meanwhile on the floor below them, Octavia and Lincoln were settling down in their own bed, in their brand new room.

“How are you feeling?” Lincoln asked, caring as ever.

“I’m fine, Linc,” Octavia yawned. She gave him a quick kiss before settling down in front of him in bed, allowing him to wrap an arm around her and spoon her. His hand soon moved down to gently stroke the swell of her belly.

“You think they’ll be kicking soon?”

Octavia let out a little laugh as she settled into a more comfortable position. “God, I hope not. But I don’t think that’s for another couple of months.”

“Maybe they’re quick learners?”

“I’d rather not have these twins kicking my organs any longer than necessary.”

Lincoln grinned and kissed her shoulder when he heard another yawn from his wife. “Fair enough. You should sleep.”

“I would, if you’d shush.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

On the floor below them, Clarke and Lexa were still wide awake. Lexa had a day off the next day, and Clarke didn’t start work until twelve – they had time to stay up late and talk.

“We’ve now got six people living here,” Clarke sighed as she laid down into bed. “Six.”

“That’s plenty.”

“But there’s still room.”

“True.”

Clarke turned to her side to look at Lexa, who was doing her nightly yoga sets as always.

“Your butt looks cute.”

Lexa, currently in the downwards dog position, glanced at Clarke from in between her legs, and smirked. “Liking the show?”

“Very much, thank you.”

Clarke watched as Lexa did her sets, going from bending over to slow arches and handstands. She was absolutely in awe of the fact that she was doing them so slow and controlled.

“I’ll never understand how you have the patience to do this.”

“It relaxes me.”

“Your muscles are straining, Lexa, I can literally _see_ your arms are shaking.”

“But it’s a good kind of strain.”

“Insanity is what I’d call it.”

Lexa, having finished her yoga, rolled up her mat and came over to the bed. “You like the results it gives.”

“That I do," Clarke grinned, pulling Lexa closer so she could sneak a little soft kiss to her toned stomach. "Definitely I do."

“But now you should sleep.”

“I will. Once you get to bed.”

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Fine. Don’t be too long.”

“Space,” Lexa told her, giving her a little push to lay her in bed. “Space is good, Clarke.”

“Space is bullshit,” Clarke grumbled. “In bed, at least. I need your waist to wrap my arms around to sleep.”

Lexa, already in the bathroom, let out a laugh, and replied with: “Clingy, baby, so so clingy.”

Clarke just laid in bed and closed her eyes, and waited for her wife to come back to her. When she did, it did not take her long to get to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know twins are kind of a cliche BUT I LOVE BABIES OK  
> and now there's six in the household and soon it'll be eight when the twins come it'll be so great


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes it's been a while but i'm here now having survived high school (or well i haven't got my results but i survived my exams somewhat so that's good)

It had been a long 48 hours for Anya.

A long, gruelling, exhausting 48 hours, filled with surgeries and stitches and blood and vomit and crying and screaming, and one emergency c-section that she’d been drawn in to assist. She’d been comforting worried family members and had delivered the worst news to some, the best of news to most.

She was just about ready to collapse on the spot from sheer exhaustion and sleep deprivation. Changing from her dirty scrubs into sweatpants and a hoodie was a painful event – her aching muscles complained at every rise of an arm or a leg, and she wanted nothing more than to lie down on the bench and fall asleep right there and then.

Just then, a nurse burst into the changing room, so fast she would’ve startled Anya were she not so exhausted.

“Dr. Lachman?”

Anya turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

 _Please don’t tell me I have to stay any longer,_ she thought, or prayed, in her head.

The nurse – Jackie – laughed. “Don’t look so scared, there’s no emergent surgery for you to be drawn into. No, I just have this little fella, and nobody’s got time to take her.”

Just then, Anya noticed the little ball of white fur in Jackie’s hands – a kitten, she realized, a real tiny kitten, with light blue eyes and a scrunched up ear, so tiny it fit easily in Jackie’s two hands.

“Where the hell did you find a cat?”

Jackie shrugged. “This old lady came in with chest pains – wouldn’t let go of the cat, we tried everything. Was hers, apparently.”

“Was?”

“She suffered an aneurysm and died about twenty minutes ago. There’s nobody to take the cat, no relatives or friends.”

“And you want me to take it?”

“Take it to a shelter or something. You’re the only one whose shift ends now. Please?”

“Jackie, I can’t-“

“Please?”

“I hate cats, Jackie.”

“You don’t have to like her to take her to a shelter,” Jackie sighed. “Look, I’d take her myself, but I’m stuck here for another 10 hours, and the cat can't stay here. She's not even supposed to be here, but I couldn't just throw her into the street, and you're conveniently just leaving, so-”

“Fine,” Anya yawned. “But you owe me one.”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine.”

She set the kitten onto the bench and went her way, leaving Anya with it.

Anya looked at the kitten, the tiny little ball of fur currently crawling towards her banana with clear intentions to attack it, and sighed.

“You claw me and I’ll hurt you,” she muttered as she moved closer. She hesitated for a second, having expected the kitten to try and run away from her, but it didn’t – no, it came to her outstretched hand and butted it’s head against it, and made a sound that could’ve been deciphered as a purr.

Anya stared at the kitten, rubbing it’s head against her hand, and didn’t know what to think. She was barely awake, but almost her entire mind was focused on how soft the kitten’s fur was, and how cute it was – it was so tiny, she couldn’t get over how tiny it was.

She picked up her backpack, slipped her banana in her pocket, and then picked up the kitten. She didn’t know how to hold it, so she held it against her chest in a manner of fashion – the kitten clung to her hoodie with it’s claws, not hard enough to scratch her skin underneath, but so that it wouldn’t have dropped even if Anya had let go.

She walked out, cradling the ball of fur against her chest, and took the bus to a nearby animal shelter.

She couldn’t keep her, that much she knew. She couldn’t keep this tiny little ball of fur, currently curled up in the crook of her arm, eyes squeezed shut and little breaths expanding it’s body the tiniest bit – she couldn’t keep her, no matter how cute it was.

After all, she hated cats.

Anya was essentially a walking zombie by the time she got to the shelter. It was a house, located conveniently near a park, and as she was entering, a dog walker left, with about ten dogs on a leash – the poor girl looked like she could’ve used a hand, but she walked past Anya so fast she didn’t have any time to even notice her.

The closer she got to the house, the louder the barking became. The kitten in Anya’s arms was awake now, and curled up into the crook of her arm, as though to hide.

Her heart twisted, and she was suddenly overcome with an intense feeling to protect this tiny kitten in her arms.

She looked at the door one last time, and then turned on her heel, and went home.

“You’re mine now,” she murmured to the kitten, now happily toying with the string of her hoodie. "Cute little kitty."

 

* * *

 

Lexa was sat on a stool in the middle of the living room, facing Clarke, who was currently painting her. The focused look on Clarke’s face would’ve had Lexa giggling, but she had strict orders to stay still. It’d been about an hour, and she was growing tired, but Clarke, according to her own words, was ‘nowhere near finished documenting this masterpiece’.

“My butt’s numb.”

“Don’t move your lips, Lexa, I’m literally painting them right now.”

Lexa sighed and stayed put. Even though she was uncomfortable sitting on the stool, she still enjoyed the overall experience of having Clarke’s undivided attention.

Not to mention she knew Clarke loved painting her, and was more than happy to give her that happiness and entertainment.

Octavia was upstairs napping, Lincoln had just gone down to the store with Raven, and the house was quiet. It was around seven in the evening, and the constant rain that had fallen for most of the day had only ceased about half an hour before. It was November, and chilly, and rainy, but none of them really minded.

After all, Thanksgiving was coming.

Lexa raised her eyes from the point on the wall that Clarke had her staring at when the door opened. She saw Anya, and almost smiled – but Clarke reminded her once again to stay put, and so she did.

Fish rushed over to greet Anya, and upon smelling the kitten, tried his best to find the source of the smell, jumping up at Anya and pushing his nose towards her.

“Shoo, Fish, go away, you’re scaring her,” Anya grumbled.

Lexa heard her, and was confused - but then she saw the kitten in Anya’s arms, and her eyes widened in what could only be described as child-like joy.

“Lexa, stay still.”

“No, Clarke-“

“Lexa-“

“Anya has a kitten!”

Clarke let out a gasp and whirled around in her seat. “Oh my god.”

Anya frowned and went off to the kitchen, having decided the kitten must be hungry. Clarke and Lexa discarded their painting project and followed her, badgering her questions about the kitten.

“Where’d you get it?”

“How’d you get it?”

“Didn’t you say you hate cats?”

Anya sighed. “Give me a minute and I’ll answer. Here, hold her.”

She handed the kitten to Lexa, but the instant she let go of it, the kitten meowed and tried to jump back to her. Lexa almost dropped her, wriggling in her grasp, and let out a laugh.

“She doesn’t want to leave you, it seems.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “What do kittens eat?”

“Are you keeping her?” Clarke asked, thoroughly astonished.

“Yes. What do kittens eat?”

“Um, I don’t know. We have tuna – but wait, no, that’s too salty.”

Clarke pushed past Anya and rummaged through the fridge till she found some meat, leftover from last night’s roast. “We could try that.”

“I had a cat,” she added when Anya eyed her suspiciously. “When I was a kid. Well, it was Dad’s cat – his name was Tubbs and he hated me, but anyway- here.” She handed Anya a small plate of now chopped up meat, chopped up very small, and gave her a smile. “Did you lie when you said you hated cats?”

“No. I do hate cats.”

“And yet you’re keeping this one. How’d you even get her?” Lexa asked. The kitten had settled in her arms, and she was beaming, the feel of the little animal in her arms absolutely divine.

Anya took the kitten from her and placed it on the counter before the plate of meat. After a few wavering steps, the kitten went over to the plate, and took a piece of meat into it’s mouth – and then spit it out.

“Ok, so not that, then,” Clarke laughed. “You might wanna call Raven, she’s still at the store.”

Anya sighed. “She’s going to think I lied about hating cats.”

“Did you?”

“No. I hate cats.”

“But not this one?”

“This one doesn’t hate me,” Anya answered simply. As though to consolidate her point, the kitten walked over to where she was leaning on the table and began rubbing it’s head against her arm.

“Ok, you gotta tell us where you got it.”

“Her. I checked.”

“Ok, her.”

“A lady died at the hospital. She had this kitten with her, and nobody wanted it. I was supposed to take her to the shelter, but I decided not to.”

“Why not?”

Anya frowned. “She didn’t want to go.”

“Anya, you’re talking about the cat as though it were a human.”

“She was afraid.”

Lexa laughed, thoroughly enthralled by the kitten as well as by the fact that Anya was so in love with it. “Fair enough. So you’re keeping her?”

“If I can?”

“I don’t think anyone’s allergic…?” Lexa said, glancing at Clarke for confirmation.

“Octavia can’t be allergic, Bellamy had like four cats growing up.”

“Ok, Lincoln?”

“I don’t think so. We can ask.”

“A bit too late, I think Anya would rather kill us than let go of her baby,” Lexa said, pointing at Anya, who at the current moment was cradling the kitten in her hands and giving it a beaming smile. Upon hearing Lexa’s comment, she frowned, but then the kitten let out a tiny squeak and she was focused on it again.

“You might wanna call Raven and tell her to buy some kitten food.”

Anya nodded. “Can you put Fish outside? Just till we find out a way to teach him not to eat the kitten.”

Clarke nodded, and went out, still laughing at the whole thing. Lexa remained there for a while, watching Anya hold the kitten, so gentle and so unlike herself, and couldn’t believe it. “You big softie.”

Anya shot her a glare. “Shut up.”

“All it takes is one kitten to give you a little headbutt and you’re done for.”

“Shut up.”

“Didn’t Raven want to adopt a cat? And you said no?”

“I don’t like cats. Except this one.”

“I see. Good luck explaining that to Raven.”

Anya sighed and went to the living room to sit down. The kitten sat in her lap as she dialled Raven’s number, and rolled over to it’s back to offer up her belly for Anya to scratch. As she waited for Raven to pick up, she began rubbing her fingers over it’s soft belly, and the kitten looked so overjoyed she didn’t at first realize Raven had answered.

“Anya?”

“Oh, yeah, hi.”

“Hi? I’m at the store. How was work?”

“I’m almost dead, but, um…don’t be mad, ok?”

“Mad? What’d you do?”

“I kinda got a kitten.”

Raven let out a gasp, and in the distance Anya heard Lincoln asking her if she was okay. “Raven? Hey, Raven?”

Raven stammered her response, sounding very disbelieved. “You’re joking, right?”

“No. I don’t joke about these sorts of things.”

“A kitten? I thought you hated cats?”

“Not this one. It likes me.”

“Oh my god, Anya. I could’ve thought _I’d_ be the one to do something like this, but not you-“

“Oh shut up, I know it’s crazy, I’m deadly tired and the kitten needs food. And a bowl. And a collar. And-“

“Ok, ok, got it. You’re slurring, Anya. Go to bed.”

“I can’t, the kitten’s in my lap.”

“Pick it up, and go to bed. I’ll get it stuff.”

“Really? You’re okay with this?”

“I fucking love cats, Anya. Of course I’m okay. Just send me a picture, before you go to sleep? Ok?”

“Okay, sure, yeah.”

“Now go to bed. Leave the kitten with Clarke and Lexa, and go to bed.”

“No need to be so bossy.”

Anya did as told and gave the kitten to Lexa and then went her way, up the stairs, and essentially collapsed into bed.

Lexa, however, was left with the kitten, and was on the top of the world. She sat down on the floor and brought out a ball of paper, and tried to get it to play with her.

The kitten wasn’t too interested. It meowed and looked distressed, and Lexa soon realized the kitten was worried about Anya.

“Your mommy’s just upstairs,” she cooed, eliciting an adoring and amused look from Clarke. “She’s sleeping.”

The kitten meowed again, and swatted at a strand of Lexa’s hair.

“I think she wants to see her mommy,” Clarke chuckled, setting down her book and coming over to sit down on the floor next to Lexa.

They heard the car pulling up in the driveway, and the next thing they knew, Raven had entered. “Where’s the kitten?”

She saw the kitten, and by the time Lincoln managed to clamber over with the rest of the groceries, there were three girls sitting on the floor cooing at the tiny little kitten.

“It’s so cute,” Raven sighed. “This is the best day of my life.”

“Rae, the cat’s scratched you four times already. It doesn’t seem to like you much.”

That much was true; the cat was deliberately avoiding Raven, and had now settled into Clarke’s lap, bundled up in a little ball and barely visible, that’s how tiny it was.

“What’s her name?”

“She doesn’t have one yet, I think.”

The next project for them was thinking up names while trying to get the kitten to eat. Raven had gotten two kinds of kibble, knowing kittens and cats were very picky, and the kitten picked at the first, and seemed to prefer the second. She’d gotten it a little collar, too, but the kitten wouldn’t let her or anyone put it on her, and so they set it aside for the present. It’s water and food bowls were set in the kitchen corner, away from the general paths where people walked, and far enough from Fish’s bowls that they didn’t have to worry of the kitten being frightened by the dog.

Raven went up a while later for a shower, and in the mean time, Lexa and Clarke were meant to be watching the cat.

Somehow, however, they lost the cat, and what then ensued was a half hour of frivolous searching through each room in the house and under each table and chair.

“Raven, we lost the cat,” Clarke said when she found her, just fresh out of the shower. “We looked everywhere.”

“No way. Anya’s going to flip.”

“She just disappeared, Raven-“

“We gotta find it before she wakes.”

And then they searched for another hour, but to no avail. The kitten was gone.

“And you’re _sure_ no windows or doors were open?”

“Nope, none. And we haven’t opened any, so she’s gotta be in the house.”

Just then, they heard a yawn, and turned around to find Anya walking down the stairs, the kitten in her arms and a tired expression on her face.

“You guys looking for this?”

“Where was she?”

“She was curled up next to me, chewing my hair.” Anya replied. “Some good cat-sitters you are.”

“Excuse you, but your cat’s a ninja,” Lexa muttered. “I averted my eyes for _two_ seconds, and she was gone.”

Anya rolled her eyes and came over to give Raven a quick kiss, while Clarke and Lexa went off on their own.

“Anya, babe, your cat hates me,” Raven then said, pouting a little. “She won’t let me touch her.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Ok? Watch.”

And Anya did watch as Raven reached over with her hand. The cat hissed and clawed at her hand, and Raven withdrew quickly, shooting Anya a look. “See? It hates me.”

“She.”

“ _She_ hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“You’re really keeping her?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Don’t say it like it’s such a matter-of-fact thing. You said you hated cats.”

“Yes, I did.”

“But you like this cat, one which hates me but nobody else?”

“Really?”

“She let _everyone_ else pet her except for me.”

Anya chuckled and pecked a quick kiss to Raven’s cheek. “Maybe she’s jealous.”

“Jealous of what?”

“Of the fact that you’re mine,” Anya yawned. “I’m hungry.”

“I brought you a sandwich. Figured you’d be starving.”

Anya thanked her with a sleepy kiss and went her way to the kitchen, and after eating the sandwich and draining a cup of tea, she left the kitten downstairs with a stern ‘do not come to my bedroom’ and went to bed.

It took the kitten twenty minutes to find itself back upstairs in the attic. Raven went up and brought it back down, even though the kitten hissed and clawed at her. The instant she set her down downstairs, however, the kitten darted back up.

Clarke and Lexa watched her struggle with the kitten in amusement. They were seated on the couch, Clarke in Lexa’s lap, browsing through a brochure Lexa had brought back home.

It was a brochure for a fertility clinic, and just seeing it got them excited.

“You think we could?” Lexa asked, probably for the billionth time.

“We could.”

“But which of us would carry?”

“I could. Or you could.” Clarke shrugged. "I don't have a particular preference."

“Or, like here, this story-“ Lexa flipped the pages to the ‘our story’ part, where a lesbian couple told about their experiences with the clinic and it’s treatments. “They both carried.”

Clarke grinned when she felt Lexa’s lips give her neck a little kiss. “We could do that,” she said. “I’d like that.”

“I had a dream once, of you pregnant,” Lexa said.

“Yes, you told me.”

“I love the thought.”

“You’ve seen how Octavia’s suffering. You sure you’d love me snapping at you and complaining about my backaches and-“

Lexa laughed and turned Clarke’s head to silence her with a kiss. “Shush. Of course I would.”

“And then what about you pregnant? I’d have to deal with continuous ‘oh Clarke please let me buy another candle, I’m carrying your child’ and god knows what else.”

“That reminds me-“

“No. No candles.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m very fun.”

“Prove it.”

“Not here. Later.”

“Fine.”

“But the clinic…?”

“We could, _maybe_ , set up an appointment. Not quite yet, though. After my show, sometime in July maybe?”

“After your show, yes. That’d be good.”

“I’d have time, too. To be pregnant, I mean.”

Lexa chuckled and moved her hands down to Clarke’s belly. “This is a bit crazy, isn’t it? Do we even have room?”

"Are you talking about my belly or the house?"

Lexa rolled her eyes. "The house, of course."

Clarke laughed and turned a little to face her. “There’s two rooms on our floor, empty. Well, one’s your study, and one’s my studio, but I’ve got a studio downtown, so I can sacrifice my studio here for the kid. And then the twins are going to have their own rooms upstairs on the third floor – and, if need be, there’s that one room behind the laundry room, and the basement’s entirely unused right now. And the attic, too-“

“Ok, ok, got it. We’ve got room.”

“Plenty of room.”

Lexa was quiet for a long while. Then, all of a sudden, she asked:

“Could we get a swing for the tree?”

Clarke was surprised at the question – to say the least.

“What?”

“A swing. For the tree, the oak in the backyard-“

“Now?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Well, for one, there’s no kids yet-“ Clarke began, but then she saw the little pout in Lexa’s face, and melted on the spot. “Sure we can get a swing, you big child.”

“I’m not big.”

Clarke just rolled her eyes and laughed. “You child.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“Not at all.”

“And, besides, I’m very mature,” Lexa insisted as Clarke busied herself with littering quick kisses along her neck and jaw. “I’m a lawyer and all that.”

“Very mature, yes, with your raccoon-socks and overbearing love for aquariums.”

Lexa’s eyes lit up at that. “We haven’t been to the aquarium ages. Can we go?”

“Not today, but sure.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I’ve got that meeting?”

“But surely it’s not all day?”

Clarke laughed. “I’ll pick you up from work? Six okay?”

“Six is fine. I finish at five, though.”

“Five thirty?”

“It’s a date.”

“We could go to that seafood restaurant, down the street-“

“You mean the one we always go to?”

“Yes?”

“Do you really think you have to ask?”

Clarke laughed again. “We’re gross sometimes, you know that?”

“I love it.”

“I love it too.”

Clarke was picking at a string on Lexa’s hoodie sleeve, something she only did when there was something on her mind. Lexa nuzzled her face into her neck and sighed, and waited a long while before finally asking: “What’s on your mind?”

“Thanksgiving.”

“That’s in three weeks.”

“I was thinking…well, we haven’t discussed Thanksgiving with Mom yet, since she’s still in Mali.”

“Mhm?”

“And she’s only coming back the week before…well, here’s my idea: why not have it here? Uncle Marcus lives in Portland, it’d be easier for him to come here than to go all the way across the country…and we definitely have the space. I mean we’d have to fix up the guest bedroom and maybe set up another, but…what do you think?”

“And then Bellamy and Murphy would probably come too, right?”

“Right, yes. They could easily come up from LA.”

“We could do it,” Lexa said. “Murphy’s a chef, and I’m sure Bellamy wouldn’t object to being in charge of the desserts…and Lincoln can handle the drinks, and the rest of us can just be useful any way we can.”

“So we’d do it?”

“If Abby agrees to break the thousand-year-old tradition.”

“It’s not really breaking the tradition, though, is it?” Clarke asked. “We’ll all still be together, only in a different house – and she hasn’t seen the house after we furnished it fully.”

“True.”

“I’ll call her, when I get the chance.”

“One question, though?”

“Hmm?”

“One of our anniversaries is coming up…”

Clarke hadn’t of course forgotten of their first Thanksgiving together, and of the significance it had held for them.

“Yes?”

“Since this year Thanksgiving’s a bit later, I was thinking we could have a little cabin getaway. Just the two of us.”

“Where to?”

“I was looking at this cabin up in Oregon, in the woods…it’d be nice, and we’d have plenty of alone time…”

“I don’t get as much time off as you do.”

“I know, but it’d just be two days at most. The weekend.”

Clarke smiled. “It sounds nice.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“Yes, Lexa, that’s a yes.”

“Good, ‘cause otherwise I would’ve had to cancel the reservation.”

“You already set it up?”

“Yeah?”

“And you only asked me now?”

“What?” Lexa exclaimed. “It was on a whim, okay? I saw the thing, and thought it’d be lovely, and…”

Clarke just laughed and gave her a kiss. “You romantic sap.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“No, of course it isn’t.”

“Good, because I’m only going to make it worse when I tell you the cabin package is called ‘A Romantic Getaway’ package, with massages and a candlelit dinner, and a couples hike.”

“A couples hike…” Clarke groaned. “Please, no.”

“You’ll love it.”

“I’m not nearly as fit as you are.”

“I’ll carry you if you get tired.”

Clarke let out a grumble, but it was playful, and after teasing Lexa a little she agreed to do the hike to please her – although, really, the thought of a hike with Lexa was entirely pleasant to her.

Meanwhile in the attic, Raven was sitting on the bed, eyeing Anya with the kitten with mixed feelings of overwhelming adorableness and jealousy.

“Look at the bastard,” she grumbled, “All happy in your boobs. My face should be there, not hers.”

“You jealous?” Anya asked, stroking the kitten’s head gently.

“Yes.”

“I don’t know why she doesn’t like you,” Anya sighed. “She’ll grow on you. Maybe.”

“She’s a white demon.”

Anya glanced at the bandaid on Raven’s arm and gave her a little smile. “But she’s so cute.”

“I know, and seeing her with you – god, it’s lethal, Anya, I could die for the cuteness.”

“Then you’ll be ok if I keep her?”

“I have no intentions to break your heart like that.”

“Good.”

“What’s her name, though?”

“I was thinking you could name her.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Well, there’s already a dog named Fish…”

“No, nothing weird like that.”

“You said I could name her.”

Anya sighed. “Ok, fine, let’s hear it.”

Raven thought for a while, and then, with a grin, suggested: “Sardine.”

“Sardine?”

“It’s kinda like Fish, except more appropriate for a cat.”

“Sardine.”

“Mhm.”

“You want to name our cat Sardine?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you hate our cat?”

“No?”

“Then why would you want to name her Sardine?"

“Come on, Anya, it’s a cute and funny name,” Raven begged. “And she likes it. Sardine!”

The cat glanced at her, which Raven took as a sign that she liked the name as well. “See?”

Anya just groaned. “Fine. Her name’s Sardine. No wonder she hates you.”

For that, Raven gave Anya a little smack, to which the kitten let out a hiss of sorts.

“You have a tiny tiny bodyguard,” Raven commented. “Now can you put her to her bed so that we can sleep? I don’t want her clawing my eyes out for trying to cuddle you.”

“What, no sex today?”

“You’ve been up for 48 hours. You’d be passed out before I even got your pants off.”

Anya yawned, proving Raven’s point. “Fair enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anya with a kitten is my new fave thing  
> and clexa's baby fever is adorable and they'll have babies for sure and i'm going to write the aquarium date because lexa fawning over squids is a godsend


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well it's been a while but granted, i've had little to no access to internet this past month  
> imagine a cabin with the nearest wifi connection about five miles in any direction, and in which the electricity works SOMETIMES, and you'll have an idea of where i'm staying this summer  
> i'm genuinely writing my own shit on a typewriter because it's more reliable than a computer (also i feel hipster and old-timey af)  
> anyway, here's a new chapter

“Explain to me again why we live in a house of a thousand rooms?”

Raven peeked out from the closet and frowned. “I don’t know, it’s not _my_ house.”

“Clarke,” Anya yelled, leaning over the railing, “Why does your house have a thousand rooms?”

“Anya,” came Clarke’s response, “I’m trying to have a nap!”

Anya just huffed and turned around to look under the cabinet. “Sardine-?”

“Just face it, An,” Raven chuckled as she clambered from underneath the bed, “The cat’s gone.”

“If I hear you say good riddance, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

“I wasn’t-“

Anya raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Ok, fine, maybe the cat being gone wouldn’t be so bad, but-“ Raven shrugged. “Sardine may hate me but I don’t hate her. Not that much anyway.”

“How about that time you threatened to kill her?”

“I had good reason and you know it.”

Anya just chuckled and shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“No,” Raven said, giving her a little poke, “What’s unbelievable is that you still defend that cat after she came after my _bare ass_ while I was trying to- you know!”

“She thought you were attacking me!”

“I was _not_ -“

“Oh, I know you weren’t.”

Raven sighed. “Look, I think you oughta sit Sardine down and give her the Talk.”

“What Talk?”

“The ‘moans do not equal screams for help, young lady’ talk.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“Well, it _should_ be a thing.”

“Raven, stop, we need to find Sardine.”

“I know, I know. But I find it suspicious that she’s disappeared just now, when we’re taking her to the v-e-t-“

“We’re gonna be late if we don’t find her soon!”

Just then, there was a buzz – a text – from Raven’s phone.

“What now?”

Anya went up the stairs while Raven checked the text, only to be called right back down by a burst of laughter from Raven.

“What?”

Raven, still laughing, handed her the phone.

**_Lincoln (15:06)_ **

_Is that Sardine on the roof?_

**_(1 attachment)_ **

Anya stared at her phone, eyes fixed on the white fuzzy dot perched on the ledge of the roof, and sighed.

“Christ.”

“It’s _your_ cat,” Raven reminded her. “Now get your ass up there and retrieve that cat, or we’ll be late for the vet!”

“She’s just getting her last shots, that’s all, it’s not so bad if we miss-“

“Anya, I’m certain Sardine is only half as smart as you think she is, and sooner or later she may stumble and fall-“

Anya threw her hands up and ran up the stairs. “I’m going!”

Raven ran down the stairs instead of up, knowing very well that Anya had little to no plan with regards to retrieving her stubborn cat. On her way out to the garage, she bumped into Lincoln, who snickered and asked:

“Looks like Sardine took you seriously and fucked off.”

Raven just groaned and pushed past him. “I’ll want you up there to help.”

“Help with what?”

“You’re strong. You’re going to hold my safety rope.”

“Your safety rope?”

“As if I’d let Anya on that roof.”

Clarke, sitting on the couch with her feet up, nodded. “I’m not letting you on that roof, either.”

“Clarke,” Raven argued, “I did acrobatics. I can balance myself, the best in this house.”

“No, you’re wrong, Octavia would be the best one for that job.”

“Well, she’s pregnant.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

“Good. I’m going on the roof.”

Raven snuck out for a brief moment, and Lincoln headed to the kitchen with the groceries he’d bought. Clarke laid back, thinking that she’d finally have a moment’s peace.

This, however, was far from reality. Not a second later, the door to the house slammed open, and in stormed a very upset Lexa. Despite the state she was in, she took a brief moment to angrily stomp to the closet and leave her coat and bag there, before finally storming to Clarke’s side, eyes burning with fury.

“What did you _do_!?”

Clarke sat up, surprised and confused. “What?”

“Don’t you ‘what’ me,” Lexa snapped. Raven, who had just come into the living room, looked at the two of them with wide eyes, frozen in place for a brief second. When she regained herself, she snuck off, hurrying her steps, all the while looking very confused.

Lexa huffed, crossed her arms, and glared at Clarke. “You know what you did.”

“Lexa, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Lexa grabbed Clarke’s arm and dragged her along to the porch door, and through to the back yard. There she stopped, pointed at the remaining stump that stood where just that morning a great old oak tree had been, and tapped her foot.

“Explain to me what this is.”

Clarke looked at Lexa incredulously. “The workmen came here to cut down some trees today. Lex, we agreed on this. I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

“Why I’m so upset? Clarke, I explicitly told you I _didn’t_ want this tree cut down!”

“What I remember hearing is you laughing and saying ‘oh yeah, sure, let’s cut that one down too while we’re at it’.”

“It was sarcasm!”

“You might’ve wanted to make that a bit more clear!”

For a second, they both took a breath – then, Lexa turned on her heel and walked off, with Clarke right behind her.

“Clarke, I told you how much I loved that tree. You should’ve known-“

“The tree was sure to fall down some day! It was _ancient_ , Lexa.”

“So? It’s stood time, been there for probably hundreds of years, only to fall today to some chainsaw-“ Lexa shook her head. “I can’t believe you let them do it.”

“I honestly thought we agreed on this.“

“Clarke! I’m upset, okay? Let me be upset for a while, please, I don’t want to talk - I’ve had a crappy day and this just tops it all off!”

Clarke froze in place as Lexa stormed up the stairs. She heard a door slam a while later – the door to their bedroom on the second floor, no doubt.

Lincoln popped his head out from the kitchen.

“Let her slam doors for a bit. She’ll come around.”

Clarke just sighed and went over to the kitchen. “I know, I know…but if she just _listened_ to why-“

“She’ll listen,” Lincoln reassured her, cutting her off by handing her a box of cereal and gesturing her to put it in the cupboard. “She just needs to cool off. She’s smart enough to walk away before she says something that’ll hurt you and what she doesn’t mean. When she’s ready, she’ll talk.”

“I can’t undo this, Linc,” Clarke muttered, sitting down on a bar stool. “I can’t re-grow the damn tree.”

“I’m aware.”

“So I’ve fucked up.”

“It’s just a tree,” Lincoln told her. “It was a pretty tree, I’ll admit, but Lexa won’t stay mad at you over a tree forever.”

Clarke just sighed. “I have a headache, I think I’m going to go lie down.”

* * *

Lexa sat on the bed, angrily picking at a loose piece of string on her blazer, still fuming. The door was locked – she didn’t want to see Clarke, not at the present, not when she was angry and strongly desired to remain so for a little while.

All day, she’d been irritated by the overbearing work load and incompetent work by her colleagues that she’d had to correct – it didn’t help that the case that she’d personally taken under her wing was going awfully, and in all likelihood would lose.

She’d just wanted to come home, go out onto the back porch, wrapped up in a blanket, have a cup of tea, and shut her eyes to listen to the wind rustle in the woods. Her heart had sank when she’d seen the silhouette of her favorite tree missing – the oak tree, which had stood in the eastern corner of the garden, had been ancient and huge, with large crooked branches stretching out far into the sky.

The fact that Clarke had essentially overlooked her blatant love for the tree made Lexa angry. She was hurt, she was shocked, and, most of all, she was annoyed.

She was also very determined to not be the one apologizing. After all, Clarke had been the one to chop down her favorite tree in the whole world.

There was a knock on the door, and Lexa sighed. “Go away, Clarke.”

“Lex, it’s me,” Anya replied. “What’d she do?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Go away.”

“Lex…”

“Anya, please- just, leave me be. Ok?”

Lexa sighed and rolled over in the bed after she’d heard the stairs creak as Anya left. She thought she was alone, and so was surprised when she heard another voice.

“Whatever Clarke did, I’m sure she’s sorry,” Raven said, her voice quiet. “And if she’s not, I’ll talk some sense into her.”

Lexa didn’t answer, nor did Raven really expect her to. She sighed and followed Anya down the stairs, all the way to the living room, where they found a pale Clarke nursing a growing headache.

“What did you do?” They asked her in unison.

“Chopped down a tree.”

“That’s why she’s mad?” Raven exclaimed. “Man, I thought you did something waay worse-“

“She’ll cool down,” Anya told her. “You know her, her temper only flares up occasionally and she likes to sulk.”

“I know,” Clarke muttered, shoving Fish away from licking her face. “I know.”

“Maybe offer her something as appeasement.”

“I’ll think about it. Now get going, you’re already really late for the ve-“

“Don’t say it!” Raven cried. “I think Sardine really does understand speech.”

“Of course she does, she’s a cat,” Anya said, rolling her eyes. “Now come on, let’s go.”

“Food’s at seven,” called Lincoln from the kitchen. “Fried rice today.”

“Oh, yum.”

Clarke was left to lie in the living room, head pounding with an attempt to figure out how to appease her angry wife. After a while, she snuck upstairs, and gave the door a tentative knock. After a while of no response, she leaned in, and said: “Look, Lexa, I’m sorry about the tree.”

Still, there was no response. Shrugging her shoulders, Clarke went back down, grabbed her coat, and headed out for a walk with Fish.

Lexa laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to cool down. But it was impossible – to her, it seemed that everything in the world was going wrong, and so with a groan she rolled over, buried her face in the pile of decorative pillows, and tried to forget about the brutal slaughter of her favorite tree.

* * *

Clarke walked down the hill to the main street, her feet aimless and chiefly led by gentle tugs of Fish’s leash. The brisk January evening was dark, the street lights providing little spotlights of yellow light wherever she went, and her breath billowed up in the air in little puffs. Without even realizing, she found herself at their suburb’s resident florist’s shop – Fiona’s Flowers – and, without much more than a shrug, tied Fish to a post outside and stepped in.

The shop was warm and humid, and smelled of a thousand flowers in a way that made Clarke’s head spin each time she stepped inside. Fiona herself was currently absent, though the rustling from the back room told Clarke that she wasn’t entirely gone.

As she waited, she busied herself with looking at the flowers and plants on offer. She now had an idea of buying Lexa flowers to apologize, and to liven up their bedroom – the flowers Lexa had bought the week before had wilted, and needed replacement anyways. Last week, they had had carnations, and so Clarke decided she’d choose something else.

Roses, perhaps. Lexa always liked roses.

Amidst the buckets full of roses and irises and birds-of-paradise and lilies was a table of potted plants – cactuses, aloe versa, little bushes and tiny potted rose trees, and much of similar varieties. It was to that table that Clarke was drawn, and there she found a tiny little tree; a bonsai tree, an apple at that, shorter than a foot and wonderfully adorable with it’s little branches and leaves.

“Find anything you like?”

Clarke jumped when she heard Fiona’s voice right next to her. She hadn’t noticed her walking up to her, but now found the elderly lady standing beside her with a charming smile on her face. Her snowy-white hair was tied up to a loose bun, into which she’d stuck a red carnation, and her large round golden-rimmed glasses sat right at the tip of her nose.

“This tree,” Clarke asked, pointing to it, “Is it hard to take care of?”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Clarke came home with a fresh bouquet of white roses and the tree in the crook of her arm. Lincoln only raised an eyebrow when he saw the tree, but said nothing.

“It’s for Lexa,” Clarke explained, knowing he was curious.

“I figured.”

“We’ll be down for dinner, I hope,” she told him. “How’s O, by the way?”

“She’s halfway through the latest episode of Game of Thrones, so she’s dandy.”

“Course she is.”

Clarke grabbed the tree and headed up the stairs, only stopping briefly in the study to write up a quick note, which she attached to the tree when she left it in front of their bedroom door.

She knocked, and waited for a while – when she still received no response, she sighed and said quietly: “Lexa, seriously, I’m sorry. I left you something outside – I’ll go downstairs now, just…I’m really sorry about the tree.”

She went her way, unaware that Lexa had only just woken up from an accidental nap. By the time Lexa reached the door, Clarke was already gone – when she opened the door, she found an empty landing.

Or so she thought. The next thing she saw was the tree, sitting on the floor, innocent and tiny and painfully adorable.

 _Oh, Clarke,_ Lexa thought as she bent down and picked up the tree, _you really make it hard to stay mad at you._

She shut the door, before taking a glance at the note.

 

**Lexa, I’m sorry I was an idiot and chopped down your favorite tree. I promise I’ll never ever chop down a tree ever again, unless you give me clear permission.**

**Please don’t be mad at me, Lincoln’s making fried rice, and I was really hoping we could cuddle tonight before bed.**

**You’ve been working a lot lately. I miss you.**

**\- your loving and apologetic wife**

 

Lexa sighed and sat down on the bed with the bonsai tree in her hands. It was adorable, she decided, an overtly sweet and adorable gesture from her ‘loving and apologetic wife’. She was no longer angry – no, she was just a little irritated, and still a little devastated at the loss of the tree, but overall, she was calm.

When Clarke came back a while later, she found the door was just slightly open, and took that as an invitation to step in.

She found Lexa sitting on the bed, still wearing her work clothes, hands folded in her lap.

“Lexa, really, I’m so so sorry about the tree,” Clarke said quickly. “I didn’t mean to- right, I really did think you’d be okay with it. I should’ve checked.”

Lexa sighed and took her hand, still not daring to look at her face. “I shouldn’t have overreacted,” she muttered. “I’m just so tired, and I- I really liked that tree, Clarke.”

Clarke nodded. “I know that now.”

“It was so pretty.”

“I know.”

“And it would’ve been perfect for our kids to climb in.”

“It was rotten to the core, Lexa,” Clarke said gently, sitting down beside her. “It could’ve fallen on us at any given moment.”

“I just….” Lexa sighed, and shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s silly.”

“You liked the tree, and I took an axe and more or less murdered it. It’s not that silly.”

Lexa was quiet for a while. “Where’d you get the tree? The little one?”

“Fiona’s.”

“Ah.”

“You like it?”

“Clarke,” Lexa said, looking at her, eyes shining. “It’s the cutest damn tree I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“I thought you’d say that.”

And then, Lexa let out a little laugh, and hugged Clarke, and all was forgiven.

“You make it impossible to be mad at you,” Lexa muttered into Clarke’s hair. “Being all cute with tiny trees and your face-“

“What’s wrong with my face?” Clarke argued.

“Nothing. That’s the problem,” Lexa sighed, pulling away to look at her. “Your face is flawless and I want to nap.”

“How are those things related?”

Lexa shrugged and laid back. “I don’t know. I’m tired.”

“Lincoln said food’s at seven. It’s half past six now.”

“We have time for a quick nap,” Lexa insisted. “Or were you not serious about wanting cuddles?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lexa is adorable tbh, and it's almost impossible for me to write clexa fighting - but i did my best and the bonsai tree is possibly the cutest little detail  
> sardine continues to be adorable  
> now i'm aware i skipped thanksgiving and christmas but i have a reason - it'll be more fun writing the blake babies' first thanksgiving and christmas soon enough. there's going to be some time leaps just until we get to the babies, because the plot i've written basically starts with the babies and until then i'm just freestyling with kittens and bonsais and god knows what else lmao


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally found myself a plot and it's great, enjoy

It wasn’t much past half six when Clarke woke to a knock on their bedroom door. Groggy and confused, she let out a mumble that should’ve been something along the lines of ‘who’s there’, and in response, she heard Lincoln’s voice.

“Lexa promised to go on a run with me.”

Clarke groaned and gave Lexa a shove, half annoyed that her wife, who at the current moment was clinging to her with her face buried in Clarke’s neck, was such a deep sleeper.

“Lexa, get up.”

Lexa whined and pushed Clarke’s hand away. “No…”

“Lincoln’s here,” Clarke told her quietly, “You’re supposed to go running.”

“It’s too early…”

Lincoln cleared his throat. “Can I come in?”

“Why?”

“Lexa made me swear I’d drag her out of bed if necessary.”

Clarke huffed and tried to turn to her side. “Fine.”

Lincoln tiptoed into the room, and upon finding the two of them so entangled, let out a little chuckle.

“Lexa, hey,” he said, shaking Lexa’s shoulder, “Time for our run.”

Lexa grumbled. “Come back later.”

“I’m afraid not.”

Poor Lexa thought he’d let it be when Lincoln walked a few steps away, only to be surprised when his fingers tickled her bare foot; with a cry, she darted up, pulled her foot away from his grasp, now more or less awake.

“That was a low blow,” she grumbled as she slipped out of bed. “Now you’ve disturbed Clarke.”

“Your fault for not waking up sooner,” came Clarke’s response from amidst the covers and pillows she’d pulled over her head. “Now go away and run and let me sleep, I don’t have work today and I’d love it if I could _once_ sleep past seven-“

“Got it, got it,” Lexa and Lincoln said in unison. Lincoln slipped away downstairs while Lexa padded over to the closet, and quickly changed into some leggings and a long-sleeved shirt. Her running shoes she got downstairs, and after eating the oatmeal and fruits Lincoln had already prepared, she followed him outside into the waking San Francisco morning.

“It’s cold,” she muttered as she jumped around for her warm-up.

“Won’t be long,” Lincoln smiled. “You wanna hold Fish’s leash, or should I?”

“I can do it.”

Fish was teeming with excitement for getting to go on a walk, and when they started running, he was ecstatic. After a few attempts at biting Lexa’s ankles, he settled on jogging beside the two of them as they ran down the hill towards where the forest trail started.

On their way down they ran into Anya, who was dragging her feet, more or less asleep, on her way back from work.

“You sure you can make it up the hill?” Lexa asked her, eyeing the dark bags under her eyes with concern.

“Lex, I’m not _that_ tired.”

“You’re swaying.”

“I’m going,” Anya muttered, waving them a goodbye as she set off up the hill.

Lexa and Lincoln looked at her for a while, then shrugged and set off down the trail into the woods.

By the time Anya reached the house, she was so tired she couldn’t even think about climbing the three flights of stairs it took to get to her and Raven’s bedroom. No, she simply collapsed onto the couch, work clothes still on and all, and fell asleep within seconds of her head falling to rest on the pillow. When Raven clambered down a little later for breakfast, she walked in to find Anya sleeping on the couch, Sardine curled up on her chest, her blue eyes eyeing Raven carefully.

The few months she’d spent with the cat had resulted in a truce of sorts between them; under no circumstance could she have said that Sardine liked her, but she could at least approach the cat without fearing she would claw her arms bloody. Even now, with the cat glaring at her with all her might, Raven dared pick her up and set her on the floor so that she could lean in and give Anya a gentle kiss.

“Anya,” she murmured, knelt beside the couch on the floor, “Come on, up you get. You’ll get a stiff neck if you sleep here.”

Anya groaned and swatted Raven’s face with a pillow. “No fucking way.”

“I’ll help you up, ok?”

“Ra-aven…”

“Anya. Come on.”

Anya grumbled and allowed Raven to pull her up, and with her eyes barely open, allowed Raven to guide her up the stairs and to their bedroom in the attic. There she laid down and promptly pulled the covers towards herself, only to be stopped by Raven’s gentle hand.

“Let’s get you out of these work clothes first, ok?”

Anya was only barely awake when Raven carefully pulled the clothes off of her and replaced them with sleep shorts and a t-shirt. Another soft kiss to her temple was her goodnight, and Anya was asleep again before Raven had even reached the other side of the attic.

On her way down, Raven stopped by at Clarke’s bedroom.

“Clarke,” she said quietly, nudging her a little. “Don’t get up, I just came to tell you Anya came home just now and it’d be good if you made sure she didn’t sleep all day, ok?”

Clarke grumbled. “What’s it with you people and unnecessary wake-ups?”

Raven smiled. “You can still sleep, you knucklehead. Just make sure my girlfriend isn’t going to stay up all night because she slept all day, ok?”

“Fine, fine.”

Clarke turned and pulled the covers even tighter over herself, and sighed, content to fall back asleep.

Her bliss didn’t last very long. Not fifteen minutes after Raven had left, Lexa and Lincoln came back from their run.

“Wasn’t that a great run?” Lincoln asked Lexa as she headed up the stairs to go shower. “I’m pumped!”

Lexa smiled, wearily, trying to conceal the fact that she could barely feel her legs. “Yeah. That was great!”

Lincoln, giddy as ever, smiled and headed over to his and Octavia’s bedroom, leaving Lexa to finally be able to slouch and grumble about her pained muscles and spaghetti-like legs. She crawled up the stairs and over to her bedroom, where she slumped down onto the bed with such force that Clarke awoke.

“What’s it this time?” she whined. “I _really_ am trying to sleep.”

Lexa groaned. “Spare me your cruelties, Clarke, I’m dying.”

Clarke huffed and turned to her side. “Good. At least then you’ll be quiet.”

“Lincoln made me run so much faster, and uphill – I’m not nearly as fast as him…” Lexa complained. “And besides, his legs are like twice as long as mine. No wonder he’s faster. It's not fair.”

“Mhm. Great. Hush.”

There was a knock on the door, and Clarke groaned as Lexa shot up. “Hm?”

“You want a ride to work? You seemed a little tired” Lincoln asked as he popped his head into the room.

“Nah, I’m good, not tired at all – I think I’ll work from home today. I’m the boss, I can do that.”

“Oh, that’s cool. I’ll make lunch around one, that ok?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The instant Lincoln was gone, Lexa’s preppiness melted away and she collapsed back onto the bed, half flopping onto the bundle of covers inside of which Clarke was.

“Lexa! Won’t you just…shush?”

Lexa sighed. “Clarke…can I come nap with you some more?”

“Go away.”

“Cla-arke…”

“No. You stink.”

“Please? I’m really tired.”

“Take a shower, then we’ll talk,” Clarke muttered.

“But what if I slip and die?”

“There’s no way you’re coming under these covers drenched in sweat.”

Lexa grumbled. “Fine. Then I’ll stay on top of the covers.”

She crawled over so that she was able to wrap her arms around Clarke, and laid half on top of her, one leg slung over Clarke’s waist and arms wrapped around her. Clarke didn’t say anything, just sighed and grumbled something that Lexa interpreted as ‘let me sleep please’.

“Of course I will,” Lexa yawned.

* * *

“Hey, Linc-?”

“Yeah babe?” Lincoln asked, sauntering into the living room. “You need something?”

“Yeah, I wanna go for a walk – you mind coming along?”

“You sure you-?”

“Don’t finish that sentence, mister,” Octavia interrupted. “I’m perfectly _fine_ to go on a walk, thank you very much. The twins are kicking up a party in my womb and I need a distraction.”

“I’ll get your jacket,” Lincoln said, giving her a little kiss on the cheek in passing.

After arguing with Octavia about putting on a scarf and hat, they made it out the door, with Fish on a leash beside them. Octavia walked alone at first, as though to prove she could – but, soon enough, she was back on Lincoln’s arm, leaning on him a bit as they walked in the crisp chill of the afternoon.

When they’d made it down the hill, they suddenly heard the sound of a car from the direction of their house, and saw Lexa driving past with a worried expression on her face.

“That’s my car…” Lincoln sighed.

“She looks worried. I’m sure she needs it,” Octavia consoled him. “And besides, it’s not like you needed your car for anything.”

Lincoln grumbled something inaudible as Octavia began dragging him to a path that went around the suburb towards the hills overlooking the sea and the city.

“Speaking of the car…”

“No.”

“What? You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Octavia argued.

“ ‘We should sell it’,” Lincoln said, imitating her voice, “ ‘It’s not big enough for babies.’”

“Ok, so maybe you did know.”

“I don’t want to sell my car.”

“But, Linc – we need a bigger car.”

“But I love _my_ car.”

“We need a minivan.”

“No we don’t.”

“We’re going to have twice as much baby crying and poop – do you really want that in your car?”

Lincoln sighed. His car was a beauty, if not a little rusty nowadays – a genuine 1967 Firebird, fiery red and almost as good as new. It mightn’t have been too valuable, but it had infinite value to him.

“You know that’s the only thing I inherited from my father.”

“I do, but…we really need a bigger car.”

“So we’ll buy another one.”

“We don’t quite have the money.”

“I don’t think the babies will mind being driven around in a Firebird, do you? If we put seat covers?”

“Linc, the back seat doesn’t have seat belts.”

“Ok, so we’ll get seat belts, and I’m sure we could get your minivan for not so much – maybe Clarke and Lexa have need for a car, too? They did talk about maybe wanting kids too some day…”

“Maybe.”

“We don’t need to hurry,” Lincoln told Octavia, “The babies won’t come for another six months or so, and we _do_ have two cars technically at our disposal. Heck, I’ll take my bike and a baby on my back and another in a seat, if need be.”

“You are _not_ getting on a bike with both our children.”

“Ok, one kid. Or maybe I can get one of those wheeled child-carriers for bikes – you know, the ones you attach on the back.”

“Ok, ok,” Octavia laughed. “The Firebird stays.”

“Good. And, besides – I could pass it on to our kids one day.”

“Lincoln.”

“Yeah?”

“You are not giving our kids the Firebird.”

“Why not?”

“The manual is _impossible_ to operate? I mean, I’ve driven manual all my life, and even I somehow can’t get through a drive without stalling the engine at least once. It’s a safety _hazard._ ”

“You’re just missing the right touch.”

“I know, I know, there’s a ‘sweet spot’ – I went to driver’s ed, the same as you. But your car’s sweet spot is tiny and impossible to notice.”

“Ok, it’s like me with your bike, right? I can’t get your Harley moving no matter what I tried.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re afraid of it.”

“Am not!”

Octavia paused, crossed her arms over her belly, and looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. “Really?”

Lincoln sighed. “Ok, maybe.”

“The first time I took you on a ride, you screamed.”

“You almost skidded right off the road!”

“I know, you’re the dependable driver out of the two of us,” Octavia smiled, reaching up on her toes to give his cheek a kiss. “Now, let’s go home, I’m starving. What’s for lunch?”

“Chicken pasta.”

“Just pasta?”

“…and garlic bread.”

“There we go. Perfect. Thank god you know how to cook, otherwise we’d be starving.”

* * *

“Cla-arke! Dinner!”

Clarke sighed and got up from the floor where she’d sat for the past hour, staring at her latest work in progress. “Coming!”

She dusted her clothes off from pencil shavings and eraser bits, and headed down the stairs to the kitchen, from where the smell of garlic bread wafted through every room on the bottom floor. In the dining room, which was a continuation of the kitchen, she found the table set for three, and Octavia and Lincoln already seated. Fish sat right beside Octavia, eyes turned upwards towards her in the most irresistible of begs.

“Fish, don’t beg,” Clarke told him. The dog glanced at her and went a little ways’ off, so that he could still see the table, in case any treats did in fact fall to the floor.

“Where’s Lexa?” Lincoln asked as he helped her to a serving of pasta and garlic bread. “We saw her drive off in my car.”

“Oh, yeah – she told me to say she’ll take the utmost care of your car and not wreck it and that she’s sorry she had to take it. It was an emergency, apparently – she didn’t say much, except for ‘shit, that’s bad – I gotta go.”

“That does sound bad.”

“Where’s everyone else?”

Lincoln shrugged. “Anya said she’s not hungry – no surprise, really, she only ate breakfast about three hours ago. She went for a run.”

“And Raven?” Octavia asked. “I haven’t seen her all day.”

“Raven called and said she’d be late,” Clarke remembered. “She said she’ll order a pizza to work, so we don’t need to save anything for her.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m starving.”

* * *

Lexa didn’t come home till only a little before midnight. Clarke had stayed up as long as she could, but had fallen asleep on the couch in their bedroom. Fish had nosed the book out of her hands and to the floor to make room for himself, and so, when Lexa entered the room, she found her wife covered in a mass of golden fur, both fast asleep. When Fish noticed her, he let out a yelp and scrambled off of Clarke, stepping on her mouth in the process, so that by the time he’d reached Lexa, Clarke was complaining about the paw she’d just received to her mouth.

“Fish, you asshole,” she grumbled.

“Hey,” Lexa sighed, coming over to sit beside her. “We gotta talk.”

Clarke looked at Lexa, and saw a mess of emotions within her eyes – excitement, joy, fear, even anger and frustration. “What is it?”

“There’s a case,” Lexa sighed, “A big case. And…well, ok, I’ll tell you first. They’re these two kids – an elder brother, a senior in high school, and his little brother, who just turned three. Their parents are essentially parents from hell, and, well, they run this gay conversion camp. The elder brother has sued them for abuse and whatnot – he’s gay – and he’s concerned about his little brother. I’ve been looking the case over for a while, trying to see what we could do, but last night…well, last night, the brother came home to find the parents beating his little brother, and he of course stopped them. He hit his father hard enough to give him a concussion, took his brother, and stole their car before driving off.”

“Holy shit.”

“The parents are accusing him of kidnapping, but for now they’re both in foster care.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a big question coming?”

Lexa sighed and took Clarke’s hand into hers. “I met them today. They live in Sacramento. The elder one’s seventeen, almost eighteen – five months off – and his name is Roan, and he’s such a smart kid. He’s on the basketball team and he’s working really hard to get a college scholarship, but now with his brother in foster care…well, he’s willing to give up on college to become his brother’s guardian and work whatever he can to keep him out of their parents’ house. And the little one…he’s so cute, Clarke. His name’s Aden, and he’s three years old, he’s got the cutest eyes, and he’s really shy now, but he also spent like an hour rambling about dinosaurs, and…”

Clarke had caught on, and was now looking at Lexa expectantly.

“I want to adopt them.”

“You’re serious?”

Lexa nodded. “Both of them.”

“You want to adopt a seventeen-year-old boy?”

“Well, it’s either adopt them both or he’ll adopt his brother himself.”

“Can he even do that?”

“Most likely, yes, once he's eighteen. Well, I'm not sure, but I'd rather spare him the responsibility.”

Clarke stared at her hands for a long while. “This- how would we-?”

“It’d take time, I know- months, if not even years. But…these kids need a home, Clarke, and I know their history, and- I know this is really quick, and probably weird, but- ah, I don’t know, it’s just…”

“I wanna see them.”

“Really?”

Clarke nodded. “I mean- we’ve been married for some time now, and we’re not getting any older…and there’s definitely room in this house, for a teenage boy and a three-year-old…sure.”

“Roan’s got some misdemeanors on his record though, but he’s a good kid.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re really considering it?”

“Lex, I trust your judgement – if you want these kids, I’m halfway there to loving them too. I just need to meet them first.”

“Ok, great, um – we can go see them tomorrow? They’re being fostered in Sacramento, so it’d be a whole day, but…”

“Let’s go.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, Lex, but now you gotta sleep. And me too.”

“I don’t think I can, I’m so jumpy-“

“You look half dead. Come on, up you get. Tomorrow, we’re gonna go see the kids. We need to be rested for that,” Clarke reminded her.

Lexa grumbled, but allowed Clarke to drag her to the bathroom, where they got ready for bed. By the time she made her way to the bed, she was swaying, and effectively collapsed amidst the covers with a relaxed sigh.

“Good night, Clarke,” Lexa mumbled right before she turned to her side and fell asleep.

“G’night,” Clarke yawned back. “You did a good job today.”

“Mhm.”

“Tomorrow I’ll meet maybe our future kids.”

“It’s…crazy,” Lexa sighed.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> teenage Roan? baby Aden? sign me the fuck up y'all just wait these fuckers are adorable


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm on holiday and also sorta focusing on my own writing a bit more, but anyway, i can't quite keep all my fics not updating for ever

The next morning at four, Clarke woke up, and found herself unable to go back to sleep. Lexa was snuggled up against her back, her fists balled up and resting gently against the small of Clarke’s back; her nose pressed against Clarke’s shoulder, and erratic little puffs of air, slow and steady, tickled her skin.

It was somehow damp in the room. By no means was it hot – it was raining outside, and so the room was cool and dark, with the steady patter of raindrops breaking the otherwise soft silence of the house. It would’ve been the perfect time to fall asleep and spend some more hours laying there before the day began.

Clarke did try her best to sleep again. But the bundle of nerves in her gut soon resulted in thoughts overrunning her mind, and she turned slowly to face Lexa, still fast asleep and oblivious to the fact that she was being watched.

The next hour was a blur for Clarke. She dozed off every now and then, but never fully slept, constantly running through the thoughts and worries in her mind. She’d considered adoption, both of them had, with serious intent in their minds. And they’d planned that it’d be soon…but Clarke had concerns.

Concerns, which, she knew, were common to most people considering adoption.

_What if the kid doesn’t like me?_

_What if I don’t like the kid?_

The latter concerned Clarke more than the former. Lexa had already met these kids, the seventeen-year-old Roan, and Aden, his three-year-old little brother – Lexa had seen them, talked with them, and, quite obviously, fallen in love with them. Lexa’s heart was open and readily considering taking them, but Clarke’s was not.

Not yet, anyway. She was more than ready to love these kids, at least as a thought – but she couldn’t be sure of the reality, and so, she was worried. She tossed and turned in bed, huffed and grumbled quietly about her irritation and worry. She wished she could sleep and relax for a while longer, but of course, that was impossible.

It must’ve been a few hours when Clarke turned back to face Lexa and found her eyes open wide, watching her in a sleepy state of confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

Her voice was thick and croaky because her throat was parched, and Clarke bought herself some extra time by reaching over for the glass of water she always kept by her bed. It gave her some time to think more, to formulate her thoughts – to get some hold on her words so as to be clear and not upset Lexa.

However much she may have planned what she’d say to Lexa during her sleepless hours, what she actually said was a mess.

It was a ramble, if anything.

“I’m just worried, Lexa, because you love those kids and you’ve met them and I haven’t, and, I don’t know, I just worry about whether I’ll like them – I don’t want to disappoint you or get these kids hopes up for nothing, and I just- god, Lex, what if they don’t like me?”

Lexa watched her for a minute – a few seconds in reality, but it felt like a full and heavy minute of silence to Clarke. They were sitting up, the lights still off and the glass of water resting in Lexa’s hand.

“Clarke,” Lexa began, a tentative smile on her lips, “Try not to worry. I just want you to meet them. I don’t- I can’t say I love them yet, I’ve only just met them too – it was really just a suggestion, there’s no obligation yet. And…yeah, there’s a chance they don’t like us. There’s a chance you won’t like them. But that’s something…well, I don’t know much about adoption, but I guess all parents-to-be must worry about whether or not their kid will love them. But…they’re good kids. Smart kids. And they need a home, which we could give. We can start from that. We don’t need to tell them we might want to adopt. We’ll say you’re a colleague of mine, or something.”

“I don’t want to lie to them.”

“Then we won’t. I’ll introduce you as my wife, and you’ll get to see them and talk to them. It’ll be fine, Clarke,” Lexa told her gently.

“It’s a big decision.”

“I know.”

“A really big one.”

“We don’t have to make it overnight,” Lexa reminded her, setting the glass aside. “Nothing is set in stone, not yet.”

“I know…but…”

“Hey. We’ll see the kids. We’ll talk about this, ok? We’ll talk more when you know more, when you’ve seen them – and, besides, even then, we might not get them. It’s a complicated process.”

“Mhm.”

“You think you can sleep?”

“Nope.”

Lexa yawned, and Clarke let out a gentle laugh. “You can sleep, though. I’ll take Fish on a long walk.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Clarke assured her, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “You rest.”

“Mhmm…fine. But I’m making you nap at some point during the day, you get cranky when you’re sleep deprived.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and got up, leaving Lexa to curl up and get the few more hours of sleep before they were due to leave. A change of clothes later, she padded her way downstairs, avoiding the creaky steps so as to not rouse anyone. Sardine greeted her with a meow and darted out of her way at the bottom of the stairs, and Fish bumbled in not seconds later. Upon entering the kitchen, however, she found that she was not the only person awake in the house.

“Mornin’,” came Octavia’s greeting, mumbled through a mouthful of ice cream.

“Morning…?”

“Back hurts. Couldn’t sleep,” Octavia explained.

“Ah.”

“Why’re you up?”

Clarke shrugged as she walked over to put the kettle on. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Clarke wasn’t sure. It was all so new…and yet, Octavia’s eyes were inquisitive, and Clarke really did feel like a talk would help.

“Hand me the green tea, won’t you- no, the jasmine one…thanks,” she mumbled. “Um…you know Lexa and I…we’ve been thinking about kids. Yeah?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well…yesterday, she had that emergency, and she met these kids – a teenage boy and his little brother – and, long story short, we’re sorta kinda thinking about adopting them. Or fostering them. I don’t know.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a lot.”

“It’s just- Lexa’s seen the kids, right? But I haven’t, and I- what if I don’t like them? Or…what if I do like them…but just that?”

Clarke was afraid that Octavia wouldn’t follow, but the gentle smile and touch on her arm told her that Octavia had understood.

“You’re worrying if you can love them.”

“I know it’s probably too soon to worry about that, but-“

“I worry about that too.”

Clarke stumbled over her words and was left looking at Octavia in genuine surprise.

“Don’t look at me like that, I haven’t told Lincoln because all he can talk about is how much he loves our babies, and…well, I do love them, but I haven’t- they’re in me, I can feel them, but what if I don’t love them enough? Or what if they don’t love me?”

Octavia’s voice was shaking a little, and so Clarke quickly finished up with her cup of tea and led her to the living room. Sat on the couch, with only the foot lamp on, she took Octavia’s hand, and gave her a tentative smile.

“They’ll love you, that’s for sure. There’s no way they couldn’t, they’re- they’re your kids, O. And you’ll be a terrific mom.”

“I don’t know-“

“You will.”

“But there’s _two-_ I’m so worried I’ll get exhausted and then regret having them-“

“O. You’re not alone. You have Lincoln. And you have us. Lexa loves babies, I love babies, Raven says they smell but she’ll take care of them too or I’ll kick her ass – and Anya’s a doctor. You have four other people you can trust with your kids whenever you get tired. You don’t have to be a superhero just ‘cause you’re having kids.”

“Hey, hey,” Octavia interrupted, wiping away a stray tear, “This wasn’t about me. You’re the one with the problem.”

“I think we both have problems.”

“Probably true.”

“But still…you’ll be fine, O. You’ll love those kids. You’re already nurturing them- they’re keeping you up and giving you pains and nausea and mood swings and you’re still going on, whereas I’m pretty sure I’d be hating everything and everyone by now.”

Octavia let out a laugh. “Just wait till the belly gets even bigger. I’ll be ready for murder.”

“I can imagine.”

Clarke was turning her mug in her hands, staring at her tea with a blank expression, and only noticed Octavia had said something when she nudged her.

“Hey.”

“Huh?”

“So…you’re thinking about kids.”

“Yeah.”

“Kids you’re gonna meet, probably?”

“Today.”

“Oh, whoa.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about them.”

“I don’t know anything about them.”

“Their names-?”

“The older one’s Roan…he’s seventeen. And he’s gay, his parents sent him to conversion camp, so…god, what if he needs help and we can’t help him the way he needs?”

“Clarke, calm down. You helped Lexa overcome her issues. You’ll be fine,” Octavia interrupted. “Don’t think about that now. Tell me more.”

“Well…they live in Sacramento. And Roan’s on the basketball team. Lexa says he’s a smart kid. And then his brother…Aden. He’s three. All I know is he loves dinosaurs.”

“That’s a start.”

“It’s barely nothing.”

“It’s still something. It’s more than what I know about my kids.”

“It’s not the same, though.”

“I know,” Octavia agreed. “But, hey- do you have a favorite dinosaur?”

“Um, no?”

“You gotta think of one. Every damn kid I’ve met with a dinosaur obsession has asked me my fave dino. If you don’t know, it’s _so uncool.”_

“But I don’t know anything about dinosaurs?”

“Pterodactyl is always a good choice.”

“Which one’s that?”

“The one that can fly. Long-ass thingy on it’s head. Wings. Looks like a demon-bird with scales. The kid’ll know.”

“I don’t-“

“Or a brontosaurus. The ones with long necks.”

“I know T-rex-“

“Oh, everyone knows T-rex.”

“Right. Gimme one more. Just in case.”

“Stegosaurus. They’re my faves, they have these big-ass spine thingies and look really dangerous but they’re actually herbivores-“

“You were a dinosaur kid, weren’t you?”

“Bell was, so I was too,” Octavia explained. “See? It’s not that hard to appeal to a three year old.”

“I don’t know-“

“Oh, Clarke, stop worrying so much.”

“I’m trying.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“It will. I’m sure of it.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Maternal instinct.”

“But you’re not _my_ mom.”

“Shut up, it still applies.”

 

* * *

 

They left the house at half past eight, and arrived in Sacramento a little after ten – good time, Lexa said, given they barely saw any actual traffic after they’d left the near vicinity of the bay. It was a beautiful day, and an interesting drive, but Clarke couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that she was on her way to meet her prospective kids.

“Lex,” she said, voice slightly strained from the effort to not sound entirely terrified.

“Yeah?”

“If these kids- if we adopt them…”

Lexa glanced at her wife, sitting beside her with her face all pale, and sighed. “Yeah?”

“My mom’s gonna flip.”

Lexa laughed. “True.”

“Like, good flip- oh my god, she’d die. Lexa, I can’t give my mom a heart attack.”

“Clarke, you’re getting way ahead of yourself.”

“I just- I forgot it’s not just us. What if Raven doesn’t like the kids? Or…”

“Clarke.”

Clarke paused and looked at Lexa. “Yes?”

“Shush.”

“You can’t shush me.”

“Yes I can, you’re worrying too much. And besides, we’re here.”

Clarke’s eyes widened when she realized that the car had stopped. They were parked in front of a white suburban house, with a picket fence and the flag flying in a pole set precisely in the middle of the lawn.

“They’re in separate foster homes,” Lexa explained, realizing she’d forgotten to mention it, “Because Roan’s still being processed for the whole ‘alleged kidnapping’ thing. Aden’s probably going to ask you about him, by the way. He wouldn’t stop asking me when he could see him, yesterday I mean.”

“Yeah…ok. Ok,” Clarke breathed, trying to calm herself down. “You know, this house looks funny.”

“The American dream, right?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“It’s a military family – both parents in the Army, the dad’s a captain and the mom, too, I guess – two kids, both off to college, so…I don’t know. I guess that’s not too important.”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna go?”

“Lexa, I’m so nervous I could puke.”

“He’s going to love you,” Lexa assured gently. “Trust me.”

 

* * *

 

They were received by the Mildreds with a warm and firm welcome – strong handshakes, gentle smiles, a few pleasantries exchanged, and then, they were led to the living room.

What Clarke first saw was the hat. The boy wearing it soon captured her attention, but it was the hat that somehow looked odd.

Perhaps it was because it was an adult-sized snapback on a little three-year-old boy. Or perhaps it was because it was bright red.

Nevertheless, it was eye-catching, as was the mess of golden curls spilling from underneath the hat. The boy’s eyes, bright blue and wide open, stared at them inquisitively from underneath his overgrown hair. He wore a yellow t-shirt, blue shorts, and his knees were scraped up and were patched up with band-aids. 

Clarke felt a little bit of anger and pity when she saw his left hand was bandaged up. Lexa had mentioned his parents had done something, but actually seeing it…well, it did not feel good. At all.

“Aden, these people are here to see you,” Mrs. Mildred said gently, pointing to Lexa and Clarke. “You met Miss Lexa yesterday. Remember?”

Aden nodded, lips tightly pursed shut, appearing a little shy. He was clutching the dinosaur tightly against his chest, standing before them – he was so short that he had to tilt his head up to look at them, causing the hat to almost slip off of his head. He quickly turned his head back down and went to the couch, climbing up on it to sit.

“We’ll just be right here,” Mr. Mildred said, pointing to the chairs in one corner of the room. “He hasn’t said much since he found out he can’t see his brother.”

“Yes. Thank you, we’ll get you if we need anything or have any questions,” Lexa smiled.

She went over to the couch, and, after waiting a moment, sat down beside Aden.

“Hey.”

Clarke was still standing in the doorway, but when Lexa beckoned for her to come closer, she did.

“This is Miss Clarke,” Lexa said. “Wanna say hi?”

Aden shook his head, and Clarke’s heart twisted a little in disappointment.

“You sure? She’s really nice,” Lexa tried.

“I want Roan,” Aden muttered. “Where is he?”

Lexa sighed. “You’ll see him soon, I promise.”

Aden glanced at her, a little glare set into the blue of his eyes. “But why?”

“Because…” Lexa faltered. “Because of your parents, Aden.”

“They’re bad,” Aden said quietly, turning the plastic dinosaur in his hands. “Roan said so.”

“And Roan’s exactly right.”

Lexa found herself at a loss for words, and glanced at Clarke for help.

“Um, is that a pterodactyl?”

Clarke wasn’t sure whether she was right – the dinosaur in Aden’s hands did have wings, and she’d let the words out before she even really knew what she was saying, and now- well, now she saw Aden look up at her for the first time, genuine surprise in his eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Can I see?”

Lexa moved a little to let Clarke sit next to Aden, only now realizing why she’d been so taken by Aden’s eyes – they were the same blue as Clarke’s, exactly as bright and inquisitive and smart, and now, watching Clarke look over the plastic figure, and noticing the awe in Aden’s eyes, she somehow felt proud.

“I’m going to go talk to the Mildreds,” Lexa said. “I think you’ll be fine here.”

She went away, and Clarke handed the figure back to Aden. “Pterodactyls are cool, aren’t they? Since they can fly, and stuff.”

“Yeah,” Aden agree, quickly stealing a glance at Clarke. “You like dinosaurs?”

“A little,” Clarke smiled. “Though I like herbivores more.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, herbivores- they’re dinosaurs that only eat grass and plants. They don’t kill other dinosaurs.”

“Oh. Cool.”

For a moment, they were quiet – but then, almost out of the blue, Aden grabbed Clarke’s hand, slid off the couch, and tugged at her to come along. Clarke, after glancing at Lexa, did so, following the little boy through to the hall and to what appeared to be his room – it was pretty empty, there was a bed and a desk but not much else. On the bed, there was a red backpack, with a racecar printed on the back.

“You have a lot of red things,” Clarke observed.

Aden didn’t appear to have heard her – he’d let go of her hand, and was now standing by the bed, pulling out a book from his backpack. It was a huge book, almost too big to fit into the backpack, and clearly far too heavy for him to hold. He tried to maneuver it to the floor, but it almost dropped.

“Whoa, easy,” Clarke said, coming over to help him set it on the floor. “There we go.”

“Can you read it?”

“Yes, I can.”

Aden sat down beside her, cross-legged, and looked at her. “Will you?”

Clarke smiled. “If you say please.”

“Ple-ease?”

Clarke let out a gentle laugh and looked at the book itself. It was a dinosaur book – a book listing every era that the dinosaurs lived in, and every type of dinosaur known, including descriptions and pictures and a whole lot of facts. It wasn’t a children’s book, and so Clarke had to pause very often to explain certain words to Aden, but she read nevertheless. Every now and then he'd stop her to point out a cool picture, and each time, her heart grew a little warmer for this little man with a cap too big and too many questions to ask.

About an hour later, when Lexa had finished up asking questions and settling things with the Mildreds and had taken a few phone calls, she came into the room to find Clarke and Aden drawing together with crayons, using an open page with a t-rex as their model. Aden’s drawing was little more than scribbles, whereas Clarke’s drawing was perfect, as always. Lexa couldn’t believe that even cheap dollar-store crayons could turn into world-class art in the hands of her wife.

“Aden?”

The boy glanced at Lexa, but said nothing.

“I’m sorry, but I think miss Clarke has to go.”

“No…”

“We’re going to go see your brother, Aden,” Clarke said gently. “You want me to bring your awesome drawing?”

Aden nodded, but pouted. “I wanna come.”

“I promise, I’ll be back soon.”

“When’s soon?”

“Next week?”

“How long?”

“Seven days.”

She showed him with her fingers, and he frowned.

“Too long.”

“But I’ll be back, Aden,” Clarke promised.

“Pinky promise?”

Clarke smiled and offered him his pinky. “I promise. And, if your foster parents are nice…I’ll take you out to the science museum.”

“Really!?”

“Yes, really- but only if you behave, ok?”

“Ok.”

Clarke smiled and got up, and followed Lexa to the front door. There, Aden gave her a hug that just about melted not only her insides but Lexa’s as well, and they left the house in very good spirits.

“Well?”

Clarke looked at Lexa, and all she saw was a smile that Lexa was unable to contain.

“Look, ok, he’s so fucking cute, I can’t even deal, I think I'm going to have a heart attack-“

Lexa let out a laugh. “I told you.”

“I’m furious, though,” Clarke said quickly. “At his parents. How could anyone in their right mind hurt such an angel?”

“They’re not in their right mind,” Lexa agreed. “And you were a natural with him. He loved you.”

“I wouldn’t say loved-“

“Clarke, you bought his love with a few dinosaurs and that drawing.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious!”

“Ok, just…let’s go see Roan. I’m still on a little bit of a high, so maybe I won’t be nervous when I meet him.”

 

* * *

 

When they walked up the steps to the ‘young boys’ group home’, Clarke felt the nerves back again. This wasn’t a smiley loving suburban house. This was a group home, one which looked relatively nice, but there were some giveaways that it wasn’t as nice as where Aden had been staying. The fence was a dead giveaway – it went around the property, and the few boys standing outside, playing soccer, looked at them glumly as they made their way inside.

Roan was tall and lanky, with unruly hair, a little darker than his brother’s – it was kept out of his face in a loose ‘man bun’, one which Clarke had noticed had become the latest style. His eyes were the same blue as Aden’s. The look in them was just as wary as Aden’s had been, only the frown and general standoffishness of the boy was a little more off-putting.

On his jaw, there was a fresh cut, and his hands had burns and scars. Some were new, some were old, but there was no way a normal person hurt themselves that much. Nobody was that clumsy.

“Hi, Roan- how are you?” Lexa asked, taking a seat across him. Clarke sat beside her, and studied the boy before them – he looked generally disinterested, arms crossed across his chest, leaning back in his chair and staring elsewhere – but there was something in his posture that still signalled that it was all just an act. He was definitely paying attention, and he was _definitely_ interested.

Roan shrugged. “I’m fine, I guess.”

“This is Clarke, she’s my wife,” Lexa said, in an oddly cool tone – Clarke noticed Roan’s eyes widen a little, and almost felt a little smug at the fact. “We’ll be headed to lunch soon, so she’s tagging along – you don’t mind, do you? I just had a few questions.”

Roan sat up a little and cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah. It’s fine.”

The beginnings of a beard, only patchy stubble as of now, were more noticeable now that he sat more in the light. He eyed both Clarke and Lexa curiously as Lexa sorted through her papers, clearly studying them both.

Clarke had never felt so scrutinized in her life.

Lexa asked some routine questions about the day before, cleared up a few facts, and, towards the end, told him a little bit about Aden.

“He’s settled with a family, they’re very nice and he seems to be enjoying himself. Clarke actually…well, you can tell what you did today.”

Clarke shrugged and gave him a brief summary, at the end of which she handed him the drawing.

“He loves dinosaurs,” Roan laughed. “Really does.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Roan, we’ll be seeing you soon.”

They shook hands, and Roan even got out a little smile. And then they were out of the house, in their car, and speeding their way back home to San Francisco.

“Well, what do you think?”

Clarke glanced at Lexa briefly before returning her eyes to the road. “I….he’s nice. Roan, I mean.”

“He is. And he’s smart. Almost straight A’s.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“So what did…his parents do?”

“Other than the camp?”

“Yeah, the camp…like your, erm, school, right?”

“Pretty much. He hasn’t talked about it himself, but there were some…disturbing things.”

“I see.”

“But you want to know what they did at home?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, they’re about as devout Christians as you can get – Latter Day Saints, I think, but some fucked up sect of the church. Anyway…there’s the basics, like beatings for not doing chores, and such. Cigarette burns. Being denied food.”

Clarke noticed Lexa had gotten a little tense, and reached over to grab her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. Clarke's touch was enough to get Lexa to relax her jaw, and the memories of her own past slipped away again, replaced by what she knew was her reality. 

In her reality, she had a wife, and her parents were in jail, and everything was happy.

“They're disgusting.”

“I know.”

“Will he…will they be okay?”

“That depends.”

“I know it depends a little on if we get them, but…they’d be okay?”

“Yeah. Aden…he’s been pretty sheltered, I think, Roan at least said so – he’s been protecting him a little. And Roan…he’s tough. But the good thing is he talks. He doesn’t wall up.”

“That’s good.”

There were a few minutes of silence. A couple songs on the radio, passed by, and then, Lexa spoke up again.

“Okay, this isn’t a final decision, but, right now, would you take them? Yes or no?”

Clarke didn’t even have to think.

“Yes.”

“So you’d be up for it if we went to apply to become adoptive parents?”

“You said it wasn’t a final decision!”

“It isn’t, but the process takes long so it’d be good to get it started soon as soon as possible - and besides, I’m not even that sure if we’d be allowed.”

“So you want to find out if we _can_ adopt them?”

“Yeah. It’s a bit of a grey area.”

“Ah. Well…” Clarke shrugged. “Can you give me a bit of time? Like a few days?”

“Sure, I wasn’t thinking now, I need some time too. And we need to think…are we ready? That sort of stuff.”

“Octavia thinks we are.”

“So does Anya.”

They drove past a small town, and for the rest of the drive, remained in their own thoughts. Parked in their driveway, however, neither of them got out of the car. Both were hesitant, because both had something to say – and, so, when they did speak, they spoke over one another.

“I just-“

“Well-“

They both faltered, and Clarke gestured Lexa to go first.

“I just…I like the kids. I really do. And they need a home.”

“That’s true.”

“Give it two weeks? No talking about it, and then, in two weeks, we decide. That ok?”

“Two weeks is a long time.”

“Adoption is a pretty final decision.”

“True.”

Lexa gave her a tentative smile. “So…two weeks?”

Clarke smiled back, and leaned in to kiss her. “Two weeks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baby aden is my fave and i would die for him and also i've now renewed my love for dinosaurs THEYRE SO FUCKING COOL GODDAMNIT


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to get back into some kind of writing routine, but, eh, this is still fun  
> aden is killing me though, he's too cute

A week passed with Clarke barely able to do much work. At the gallery, she was distracted and had to ask repeatedly for people to repeat what they’d said. She was so caught up in her thoughts that trying to work on her art was a bust, too – whenever she picked up a pencil, she somehow ended up doodling out rough sketches of Aden, or Roan, or dinosaurs; the one time she managed to get herself to paint, it was to paint a large colourful rendering of a stegosaurus. It was pink and blue and purple, with neon green eyes and sunglasses, finely done and received compliments from her colleagues on it. Clarke thought it was ridiculous, and yet did not put it away, because it reminded her of the little boy in the red cap that had somehow captured her heart.

A few days after she’d visited Aden and Roan, she received a phone call from Lexa.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I’m just calling to warn you,” Lexa said. “The Mildreds have something to talk to you about, and I gave them your number. I hope that’s ok.”

“Alright…oh, I have another call incoming.”

“That’s them. I’ll call you at lunch, yeah?”

“Ok. Love you.”

“Love you.”

Clarke hung up and answered the other call, more than slightly confused as to why they were calling.

“Hello, Clarke, it’s Mrs. Mildred.”

“Hi?”

“Aden wanted to speak to you, if you’ve got the time?”

Clarke smiled. “Yeah, sure, I’ve got the time.”

There was some rustling, and then, Aden answered.

“Hi Miss Clarke.”

“Hi Aden.”

“Are you coming soon?”

Clarke glanced at the calendar. “Not quite yet, buddy. Three days.”

“Aw.”

“But that’s soon. And then we’ll go to the museum and see dinos.”

“I saw a show about dinosaurs this morning,” Aden then began, apparently unphased by the disappointment. “It was so cool.”

And then, for the next five minutes, Clarke listened to Aden babbling about the show – about the dinosaurs and the meteor that had come down and ‘gone kaboom’ and how T-Rexes and stegosauruses were from different eras – it was a lot of information to come at once, and Clarke mostly just nodded along, occasionally adding in a ‘mhm’ or ‘that’s awesome’.

And then they just talked for a minute or two, before Clarke had to go to a meeting – Aden sounded so cheery and happy even when she hung up, and the whole rest of that day Clarke was ecstatic.

Three days later, she went to the natural history museum with Aden and his foster dad, Roger. Roger was a nice man, and he even knew some things about the dinosaurs, and so Clarke, with her minimal knowledge of them, wasn’t entirely left looking lost.

There was so much to see – even Clarke was overwhelmed. Stuffed animals made up a large part of the exhibit, and they had to hold Aden back a little to get him to look at them too. Aden had a mission; though the leopards and monkeys and birds were cool, he had come there to see dinosaurs, and dinosaurs were the only things he wanted to see.

“Come on, I wanna see!”

Clarke couldn’t really say no to the little boy grabbing her hand, and let herself be led down the hall and into the larger exhibit room. There, they came face to face with a life-size replica of some sort of sea-dinosaur – it looked like a more scary dolphin with razor-sharp teeth and a fatter belly, and Clarke quickly understood Aden’s fascination with dinosaurs.

“Awesome,” she breathed. Aden slipped away, hurrying up closer, but didn’t cross the ropes keeping him from touching the setup.

“This one’s a fish," he commented. 

“That’s right. But it’s a meat-eater, you see those teeth?”

“Uh-huh.”

Clarke glanced at the description, and then read it out loud to Aden. “They could swim really quick, too. Super fast.”

“I can’t swim,” Aden said simply as he skipped over to a case of fossils. “Mommy doesn’t like pools.”

Clarke froze for a second. She hadn’t heard much about Aden’s parents, mother or father, other than what Lexa had told her and what she’d heard of Roan’s interview the day before. Aden hadn’t spoken much of his parents, and now, the normality of him saying ‘mommy’ somehow felt wrong to Clarke.

“How are we holding up?” Roger asked as he sauntered into the exhibit room.

“Oh, great,” Clarke smiled, glancing at Aden, who at the moment was peering at a comparative display of ‘Megalodon vs. Great White’. “He’s fast, but I’m keeping up.”

“It’s great that you could come along,” Roger then said. “He’s been talking about you all week. That drawing of yours is in a place of honor.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

“You’re thinking about adopting, aren’t you?”

Clarke froze, and Roger quickly smiled and amended: “I know you won’t want Aden knowing yet, or his brother. I understand. Just thinking for now, yes?”

Clarke shrugged. “It’s a big decision.”

“Very true.”

“Have you…well, I suppose you have had foster kids before. Right?”

“You want to know if we’ve ever seen foster adoption processes happen?”

“Yeah. It’s complicated, isn’t it?”

“In ways, yes,” Roger admitted. “Aden…he’s very young. That may be good for him, seeing as…well, adjusting to new parents, learning to call someone else mom, or dad…can be hard for any kid. And of course it can get complicated if the parents refuse to terminate their rights, but that hasn’t happened as of yet.”

Clarke nodded. “I see.”

“And there’s no rush. Aden’s happy with us – he’s settling in. He’ll start day care in the fall if he’s still with us, and until then, we’ve set up for a playgroup and he’s perfectly happy. So there’s no need to rush on that account.”

“That’s great.”

“Miss Clarke!” Aden called. “Come look!”

Clarke chuckled and together with Roger, she walked over to where Aden was pointing at a large bit of text on the wall.

“What does it say?”

 

* * *

 

They had lunch at the museum. Aden had dinosaur shaped pasta, a strawberry ice cream for dessert, and they took a picture in front of the T-Rex jaw replica before heading back to the Mildred’s house.

“And what do you say to Miss Clarke, Aden?”

“Thank you,” Aden smiled.

“You’re welcome, buddy,” Clarke smiled back. “And I’ll be seeing you.”

On her way back, she had a lot of time to think. So much so, that when she came back, she went directly for Octavia’s room, only stopping briefly to greet Lexa before muttering a ‘I need to talk to Octavia’ and hurrying off.

“Hey, I really need to talk-“

She paused upon entering the room because Octavia wasn’t alone. She was sitting in an arm chair, braiding Raven’s hair, who sat on the floor in front of her.

“About what?”

“Um…”

Raven glanced at Octavia, but Octavia turned her head back front, muttering to her a strict ‘don’t you move’.

“What’s up?” Raven asked when Clarke sat into onto the edge of the bed. “You seem a little tense. Doesn’t she look tense?”

“She does,” Octavia agreed, turning Raven’s head back to the front again. “How was your day?”

Clarke looked at Raven, and realized then she hadn’t yet told Raven about the kids.

Of all people, she’d forgotten to tell Raven, and in that moment, she paled a little.

“Shit, um, Rae- ok, first off, don’t be mad that I haven’t told you yet, I’ve had a hectic week and you were gone in LA for like five days-“

“Clarke, what is it?”

“Lexa and I may be contemplating adopting kids.”

Raven frowned. “Yeah, I knew that.”

“No, I mean like, now.”

“Now?”

Clarke would’ve laughed at the apparent shock in Raven’s voice if it weren’t for the fact that she was rambling, trying to figure out how to best express herself.

“Well, not now, but like…there’s these kids whose case Lexa’s working and they’re in an abusive home-well, not anymore, they’re in foster care, anyway-“

“Clarke, slow down. Kids? Multiple?”

“Yeah, two, Roan and Aden – Roan’s seventeen, Aden’s three, they’re adorable, well, I don’t know if I could call a seventeen-year-old boy adorable but he’s a smart kid and so young…” Clarke paused for a breath and looked at Octavia and Raven. Octavia was focused on braiding Raven’s hair, while Raven was staring at Clarke, wide-eyed and evidently very surprised.

“And you’re thinking about adopting them?”

“Yeah.”

“Whoa,” Raven breathed. “That’s…insane.”

“Is it?”

“Tell Raven what you did today, Clarke.”

“Octavia!”

“What did you do today, Clarke?” Raven demanded.

“I took Aden to the natural history museum in Sacramento,” Clarke said quietly. “I’m sorry, I know you would’ve loved to know-“

“I’m a dinosaur expert! I should’ve been consulted!”

“Raven-“

“No, Clarke, I’m offended.”

“If I go get you a burrito, will you forgive me?”

Raven scoffed. “As if.”

“A burrito and I’ll ask mom to send you some cookies?”

“Ma-aybe?”

“Ok, and if we do adopt them, you get to take Aden to however many science museums you want.”

“Deal.”

“Ok, great, I need to talk.”

“Alright,” Raven said, untangling her legs from the lotus position they’d been in. “Get in here, let’s make this a braiding train chain. I’m bored and jittery.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen you braid in your life.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you even do it?”

“Probably. Can’t be that hard, right?”

Clarke sighed and went over to sit down in front of Raven. “But careful, please no knots-“

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I do.”

“You shouldn’t,” Octavia chimed in. “She tried braiding my hair once, ended up just making knots over knots and calling it an abstract braid.”

“Hey!”

“Am I wrong?”

“No…” Raven muttered. “Come on, lemme get at it.”

Clarke sighed and rested her head back a bit, allowing Raven to undo her ponytail and ‘get at it’.

“Damn, Clarke, when was the last time you washed your hair?”

Clarke whirled around quickly to give her a glare. “Yesterday. It’s perfectly clean.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Raven smirked. “Now, talk. What’s bothering you?”

Clarke sighed and shut her eyes. “I just…it’s such a big decision.”

“Very true,” Octavia and Raven agreed in unison.

“And I really don’t want to fuck it up. I mean…we’ve talked about kids…but what if I’m not good enough? What if I get tired? I don’t know anything about raising kids, let alone boys- let alone a _teenage_ _boy_. Aden I think I could handle, it’s Roan- the older one – he worries me.”

“How old was he again?”

“Seventeen.”

“A senior?”

“Yeah.”

“So he’ll be going to college soon enough.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know he probably won’t live with us long, but…Aden likes me. I know that. But Roan- what if he doesn’t like me? He’s not young, he might go his whole life detesting us. Maybe we’ll be strangers forever and he’ll never call me Mom- hell, I’m just ten years older than him!”

“Eleven.”

“Ok, eleven, but still. There’s no way I could be his mom biologically.”

“True. You’ll probably be mistaken for siblings,” Octavia pointed out. “Rae, gimme one of the lil hairbands.”

“Oh hush,” Clarke sighed.

Raven patted Clarke’s head. “She’s got a point, Griffin, you’re very youthful for almost twenty-nine. What do they look like, by the way? Not that looks have anything to do with whether or not you should adopt a child, but-“

“I mean, they _could_ be my kids – white, blond-ish, blue eyes…not strictly related but, you know, could be mistaken. Aden- wait, I’ve got a picture with him, from the museum…here.”

Raven let out a gasp and a muttered ‘holy fuck he’s so cute I want to squish him’. Octavia, on the other hand, reached out, grabbed the phone, and proceeded to make a few unintelligible noises before suddenly bursting into tears.

“I’m sorry, he’s just so cute, and I can’t believe I’m going to have two kids like that – look at his dimples-“

Raven let out a laugh, which was cut short when Clarke elbowed her in the stomach. “Don’t be rude, she’s got two babies messing up her hormones,” she hissed.

“I’m ok,” Octavia reassured them, wiping her eyes. “Just a little tired.”

“You should have a nap.”

“Not yet, let me finish up your braid. Clarke, keep talking.”

“Should I talk to my mom?”

“You’re asking us that?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know,” Raven said, “It’s _your_ mom.”

“She’d know what to say, but I-I don’t want to get her hopes up.”

“Sounds like you don’t want to get _your_ hopes up,” Octavia pointed out.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess…” Clarke sighed. “I can’t expect anyone to tell me what to do. But she…she could help.”

“So talk to her. She’s a grown up. She knows adoptions aren’t so straightforward.”

“But I can’t do it over the phone.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Well,” Raven began, “The weekend’s almost here. And you are sort of a millionaire-“

“Oh hush-“

“But you _could_ get on a plane and fly to your mom. That is, if you wanted to.”

“So you’re suggesting Clarke should fly five hours just to talk to her mom?”

“Yeah?”

Clarke let out a laugh. “Is it insane that I don’t think the idea is that insane?”

“Not at all,” both girls said in unison.

“Hell, I’d go talk to your mom if I had a dilemma as big as yours,” Raven said.

“As would I,” Octavia added.

“Thanks, you guys.”

“Hey, don’t get up! I’m not done!” Raven snapped, yanking Clarke back down.

“But I need to reserve my flight.”

“Here,” Octavia handed Clarke her ipad, “Use this.”

Clarke sighed and did as told, only half noticing what Raven was doing to her hair until Octavia let out a laugh.

“Oh my god, Rae, what are you doing?”

“I’m braiding her hair!”

“Do you even know what a braid is?”

“Yes-?”

“Raven, what are you doing to my hair?” Clarke demanded.

“I’m making it pretty!”

“Oh, yeah, sure-“

 

* * *

 

When Clarke finally managed to get herself to bed, Lexa was already fast asleep. She was so deeply asleep that Clarke couldn’t rouse her to talk, and so she postponed it till morning. For the night, she settled on laying by Lexa, half listening to her breathe, until at some point she slipped away as well.

In the morning, she told Lexa about her plan.

“I just need to talk it out,” Clarke said. “And she…well, I don’t know.”

“She knows you best?” Lexa suggested in a yawn.

“I’d say she at least knows how to talk things through. And she’s a proper grownup and she’s had kids. A kid. Me. And I turned out ok.”

“You turned out great,” Lexa mumbled sleepily as she crawled over to get her glasses from the bedside table. “And you can go, just bring me some cookies.”

“What is it with everyone loving my mom’s cookies?”

Lexa gave her cheek a quick kiss. “They’re delicious, that’s why. I gotta go get ready for work. I’ll see you…Sunday?”

“I haven’t booked my flight back. We’ll see.”

“Ok. Love you. Don’t fall out of the sky, please.”

“I’ll try not to,” Clarke laughed.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Lexa stayed there, however, and snuck another kiss.

“Lexa…bye.”

“Bye.”

“Lexa, go.”

“It’s chilly outside the blankets.”

Clarke gave her a shove. “Go, you have work to do.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Oh hush.”

“Bye.”

“Jesus, Lexa. Go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clarke/raven/octavia girl gang fun should happen more often tbh
> 
> also, ABBY'S COMING BACK! i love her too much tbh she's always so fun to write


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suprise, bitch
> 
> bet you thought you'd seen the last of me
> 
> and the last of that meme
> 
> i'm sorry i had to

It wasn’t until a few hours before her flight that Clarke realized that she hadn’t told her mom she was coming. 

“Shit. Raven, hold on.”

She quickly pulled out her phone and dialled the number, praying she wasn’t at work – though she had a spare key to the house, going over would’ve been redundant if her mother was going to be stuck at work all weekend.

“Clarke? What’s up?”

Clarke sighed in relief. “Hi, Mom, I was just wondering – are you working this weekend?”

“No, I have my next shift on Tuesday. Why?”

“I’m getting on a plane in about three hours,” Clarke told her. “I’m leaving for the airport right now. Or once we get off the phone, really.”

“A plane to where? Here?”

“Yeah,” Clarke smiled. “If that’s okay-“

Clarke could hear the surprise in her mother's voice, but, thankfully, it only took her a while to gather herself and find her words again. “Of course, I would’ve maybe liked a little bit more warning, but- is everything okay?”

She was her mother. Of course she was going to know something was up.

“Yeah – nothing bad, trust me, I just need to talk. Face to face.”

“Alright…”

“And, besides, I promised Raven I’d get you some of your delicious cookies.”

“Oh, of course, because that’s the only reason you’d be coming across the country to see your mother.”

“Well…maybe part of the reason.”

“And what’s the rest?”

“You’ll see,” Clarke said. “I promise nothing’s wrong.”

“Alright, well, I guess I’ll see you – when exactly? I can pick you up at the airport.”

“I’ll be there around five.”

“See you then, Clarke. Love you.”

“Love you.”

Clarke glanced at Raven, who had been staring at her with mixed feelings of amusement and confusion throughout the conversation.

“You forgot to tell your mom you were coming?”

Clarke shrugged. “Yeah.”

“How-?”

“I just figured I’d do it the next day, and then the next day was today…so yeah. But we should get going.”

 

* * *

 

Her plane was scheduled to land at half past five, but, unsurprisingly, it was a good twenty minutes late. She found her mom surprisingly fast, and after a long hug they got to the car and headed home. Somehow Abby had found the time to make a fresh lasagne, which had cooled down just enough in the time they’d been at the airport that they were able to sit down for dinner the moment they arrived. Even the table was set, and, while getting the water from the fridge, Clarke noticed a batch of cookie dough, chilling to perfection.

“You were clearly busy today,” she commented as she poured her mother a glass. “I didn’t mean you had to make the cookies today – I’m staying the whole weekend.”

“I know,” Abby smiled. “But I like to treat my baby, when I can-“

“Mo-om-“

“What? You’re all the way across the country. Not that that’s a problem, but I do miss you.”

“I miss you too. And I should visit more often.”

“Yes, you should,” Abby agreed, taking a sip of her water. “Now, do you want to eat first, or tell me what you need to talk about?”

Clarke sighed. The whole plane ride she’d spent dwelling over what she’d say, how she’d explain it, how she’d even start – but in that moment, she remembered none of the good sentences and phrases she’d come up with.

“I, uh- can we eat first?”

“Sure thing. So, how’s work?”

It was so easy to talk to her mother. They talked about this and that, about work and Lexa and the house and the general weather, and Clarke didn’t even notice that the food was gone until it was. She cleaned the table, as was the rule in Abby’s house, while Abby prepared tea and cookies – old ones, ones she’d baked at least a week ago, but ones which were still relatively good.

Clarke was happy to have a tea mug in her hand, just to have something to focus on in case things got awkward. Which, well – they could. She still had no idea how to properly explain to her mother that she was considering adopting not only a toddler but also a teenager, and both at the same time. It was insanity, she knew it, and the greatest problem was that she didn’t know where to begin.

“So,” she sighed, shifting a little where she sat. “Mom, look, the thing is…I- Lexa and I, we’ve been talking. About kids. You know that.”

“Yes, I do. And I would like grandkids, but I won’t be upset if I won’t have them.”

Clarke nodded. “Well, um…you might have them sooner than you think.”

Abby frowned in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Look, okay, there’s these two kids that Lexa came across in her work, this teenager and his three-year-old brother, and they’re being fostered now but Lexa suggested – just suggested, for now – that we adopt them and I- I’m actually considering it.”

Clarke watched as her mother tried to wrap her head around all the information she’d just spat out, waiting patiently until she was ready to ask questions.

“Two kids?”

“Yup.”

“A teenager? How old?”

“Seventeen.”

“He’s closer to being your brother than your son.”

“I know, but his brother’s three.”

“So you’re really more considering adopting the brother but you’d also take the teenager since you can’t really split siblings up?”

“Well, I don’t think we have to adopt him…he’ll be 18 so soon anyway. But we would like him involved, in our family, if we adopted.”

“What are their names? What are they like? And why are they being fostered?”

Clarke couldn’t help but smile a little. “The older one’s Roan, he’s a little reclusive now but that might just be the whole fostering situation – he plays basketball and he’s a smart kid, at least according to Lexa. And, well - they're being fostered, it's complicated."

"We have time."

Clarke gave her a quick rundown of Roan's and Aden's family history, and by the end of it, saw that her mother was appalled.

"I had trouble believing what Lexa's parents did, and now this-? It's terrible. Those are people who shouldn't have ever had kids," Abby huffed. "But, anyway, so there's Roan, and his brother..?"

Clarke smiled. "Aden – god, Mom, he’s so cute. I took him to the science museum and he loved it, absolutely loved it, and he loves dinosaurs so much…” she shook her head and took a deep breath. “And, if that makes any difference, he likes me a lot.”

Abby let out a chuckle. “He does sound adorable.”

“Wait, I have a picture- here, see?”

Clarke saw the ‘aww’ forming on her mother’s lips but never heard it, and was confused to see that her mother was also being very reserved.

“You think it’s a bad idea,” she deduced, her heart falling at the idea of her mom disapproving of her plan. “I-“

“No, Clarke,” Abby smiled, reaching out to put her hand on her arm. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea. I’m not forming an opinion, yet, not until you’ve explained it all. I just don’t want to get too attached, not until you've made a decision.”

Clarke sighed. “Right.”

“So, do you know how it would work? If you did decide to adopt?”

“It’s complicated, that’s for sure,” Clarke told her. “It’s- well, first, we would have to apply to be foster parents, and then foster them for a certain period of time, and then, if the paperwork and bureaucracy allows, we’d apply to adopt them – there’ll be interviews and god knows what else, and it’ll be a whole mess if the parents refuse to give up their parental rights.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Abby said quietly. “I know you hated the legal mess with Lexa’s parents.”

“I know, but…it is a possibility. We _could_ do it. We have the room. And our jobs are settled, so we could really do it...”

“Are you ready?”

“Ready?”

“For a kid. To be a mom.”

Clarke shrugged. “I don’t know what it is to be a mom.”

“You’ll learn, if that’s what you want,” her mother smiled. “Trust me. I barely knew anything about babies, and I don’t think I screwed you up too much-“

“Mom-”

“But are you ready to take that responsibility?”

Clarke took a deep breath. “It’s terrifying. I- a kid? Two kids? It’s insane, and I thought I’d never want kids, but…I do. And I was mostly worried about the baby period, because they’re so fragile…but I could handle a toddler. Aden- I think could be a mom for him.”

Abby nodded. “And Roan?”

“I honestly don’t know how to deal with a teenager.”

“Oh, it’s going to be hard, for sure,” Abby laughed. “If he’s anything like you, that is.”

“I wasn’t that bad- was I?”

“No, if you don’t count the fact that you were almost never in your bed at night…”

Clarke froze. “Wait. You knew?”

“Clarke. I could _hear_ you climbing down along the porch roof. You really don't remember how thin our walls are, do you?”

“Oh my god.”

“See? But I let you do your thing, and you ended up fine.”

“But, Mom- am I ready?”

“I think you should know that, not me.”

“You’re already a mom,” Clarke pouted. “So you know what it’s like. Just…god, I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

“Clarke, sweetheart…just relax. You said you first have to foster them, right? So do that. See how it goes.”

“But what if we aren’t fit for it? What if we have to give Aden away? I don’t want to break his heart like that-“

That was when Abby smiled so widely Clarke was surprised into silence.

“There we go,” Abby chuckled, giving Clarke’s arm a pat. “You’re getting there.”

“Getting where?”

“Into mom territory.”

“So you think we should-“

“Foster him. Or Roan, too, I don’t know whether you meant that you’d take them both…?”

“I’m not sure either. It’s- Lexa understands this stuff better.”

“I understand.”

“But it’s just so quick, you know? I mean we’ve talked about it for a year or so, but…”

“Try it out. See what happens.”

Abby didn’t say that she thought she already knew the outcome. She’d been watching her daughter for the past few years with such pride, and now, seeing her there, contemplating probably the biggest decision of her life, she was sure that she was ready. But it wasn’t something she could tell her, no – Clarke had to figure it out on her own.

Abby had also seen the shine in Clarke’s eyes when she’d talked about the kids, and, in truth, had already planned out a place where to put the picture she’d shown of her and little Aden. It would go right on the mantelpiece, next to the family picture of her and Jake and little three-year-old Clarke. It was uncanny how similar the two looked, Clarke and Aden, given the fact that they were in no way related – they had the same dimples, the same shine in their eyes, and the same halo of unruly blonde hair.

“Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“You zoned out there,” Clarke pointed out. “You okay?”

“Yes, Clarke – I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“How proud your father would be of you right now. How proud I am of you.”

Clarke faltered. “I- why?”

“You’ve grown up so much, Clarke. You have a home, a kind and supportive wife – I could’ve never even imagined a better person for you, and yet, even though you did go about it in a strange way, you ended up with a great career, a beautiful home, with a family – and now you’re expanding it. Or ready to, at least. And you’re not rushing into things like you used to, which is good, because these aren’t things you rush into. It’s a commitment that lasts a lifetime.”

“I know. That’s why it’s terrifying.”

“But,” Abby said, leaning over to put her cup away. “It’s also a gift that lasts a lifetime. You can’t even imagine how happy you make me, Clarke – not until you have your own kid. It’s…it’s easy, after a while. But it’s never really easy.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It’ll make sense to you, one day.”

“But am I ready?”

Abby sighed. “Clarke, I can’t tell you that. You have to know it yourself. All that I can say is that you’re smart and you have love to give, and if it feels right, you should do it.”

“I- yeah,” Clarke nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. I just…it’s a big thing.”

“Of course it is, Clarke,” Abby said. “Now, I think we’ve just been reduced to talking over the same things over and over again – how about we do something else?”

“You’re going to suggest we do a puzzle, aren’t you?”

“I have one unopened one in the study – how’d you know?”

“You’re my mom,” Clarke chuckled. “And, also - I saw the receipt for it in the kitchen.”

 

* * *

 

“So, what’d she say?”

Clarke let out a long sigh and fell backwards into her bed. “That only I can know if I’m ready to have a kid.”

“Ah.”

“But she did say a lot of good things, too.”

“Like?”

“That I was all grown up and that she was proud of me, and I swear to god she wiped away a little tear when she saw that picture of me with Aden-“

Lexa laughed on the other end. “It is a cute picture.”

“And then she said my dad would be proud of me. Of who I am today.”

“That’s…amazing.”

“I know, it’s- it’s amazing.”

“I know she doesn’t talk about him too often,” Lexa said. “So it must’ve been special.”

“It was,” Clarke said – and smiled. “It’s…I think I’m at least ready to foster Aden. And Roan – can we do that? I don’t know much about the case and that whole thing, so…”

“I would like to foster them too,” Lexa replied, her smile evident in her tone. “And I’m sure we’ll get the charges to drop, once I properly get onto this case. So that’ll be fine…”

“It’ll be fine,” Clarke sighed. “And then we might be moms. Oh, god, wait – what will they call us?”

“What do you mean?”

“They can’t call you Mom and me Mom, that’s confusing.”

“I…hm.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, one of us can be Mama, and one of us can be Mom.”

“I call dibs on Mama,” Clarke interjected. “It sounds cute.”

“And Mom doesn’t?”

“No, but Mom sounds more like you, Lexa.”

“Really?”

“I think so, at least.”

Clarke knew there’d be a lot to talk over. But they had time.

“So...”

“So.”

“How was your day?”

Clarke heard an exasperated sigh. “Work was fine, really, but your dog-“

“My dog? I thought he was _our_ dog-“

“He’s _your_ dog when he misbehaves,” Lexa grumbled.

“Okay, what did he do?”

“He’s clearly upset about you being gone, because he’s been jumpy all day, and he chased Sardine upstairs and kept her hiding in a cupboard for a good hour – Anya’s pissy because of that, so I have that also to deal with, but also…he vomited. On one of your paintings.”

“What?”

“I didn’t notice, honest, not until I heard that sound and then it was too late-“

“Oh god, I did leave some on the floor-“

“Yeah.”

“But it’s an oil painting, so you could maybe rinse it off-“

“Clarke, it stinks. Terribly.”

“Wait. Is it the good one or the bad one?”

“How should I know? They both look amazing to me. Minus the puke, of course.”

“Does it have more blue or red?”

Lexa shrugged. “Red, I think? It’s got mostly dog vomit on it, though.”

“Oh, thank god. That’s the one I was going to chuck anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t, but neither of the paintings had been so amazingly good that Clarke really cared that it had been ruined. She just didn’t want Lexa feeling guilty about Fish ruining a painting.

On the other end, Clarke heard Lexa yawning, and, without even realizing it, started to yawn herself.

“I should sleep,” Lexa mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “I’m exhausted.”

“I can hear it,” Clarke smiled. “So go to sleep.”

“There’s so much room in the bed.”

“Same here.”

“I love it,” Lexa sighed. “I can spread out as wide as I can.”

“Oh, shut up,” Clarke grumbled. “I don’t take up that much space.”

“No, you don’t, but you do hog the covers.”

“I do not.”

“Yes-“ Lexa began, but was interrupted by another yawn. “-you do.”

“Go to bed, Lexa.”

“I _am_ in bed,” Lexa whined. “ _You_ go to bed.”

“I’m in bed.”

“Well…”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

“I’m hanging up now. Love you.”

“Mhm…love you. Night. Bye.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i lost track of the plot for a moment but i think it's back on track, sorry for the time leaps, but i can't go into detail with every little thing or this fic will go on for 300 chapters and ain't nobody got time for that

The two months following Clarke’s visit to her mother had been hectic, to put it mildly. They’d gotten their caseworker, their foster care license, they were finalizing their home study report, and they were on the fast track of becoming the parents of two boys.

Octavia had experienced her first kicks, too, and so the baby fever in the house had multiplied by a dozen. Not only were Lincoln and Octavia excited for their babies, they were also excited alongside Clarke and Lexa, as were Raven and Anya – the whole household buzzed with excitement and anticipation, and the steps of the whole process were shared by all. They had to be involved, too, since technically, as part of Clarke and Lexa’s household, they would be included in the home study, too.

Their caseworker was an angel. That made it all easier.

Her name was Gina Montes, she was friendly and stern, and had a firmer handshake than Lexa – which was, in truth, hard to match. It had taken some time for them to warm up to Gina, but the woman knew what she was doing, and knew how to handle them without giving them any excess anxiety.

“These things take time, and a million forms,” was her usual reply when they asked questions. That, or a simple ‘remember, I’m not a superhero.”

Clarke wasn’t so sure about that. So far as she was concerned, their caseworker was a superhero. She was _always_ there when they had questions, and even when she didn’t know the answer, she was able to calm them down and set them at ease.

Lexa had withdrawn formally from Roan’s legal case the second they’d gotten a caseworker - it was easier that way, even though it meant that she wasn’t allowed to review the case, and Clarke had watched Lexa stress over it. Each time a new development arose, each time that she heard there was a new hearing or a form to be filled, she was anxious all over again.

It did help that the person who’d replaced Lexa as Roan’s lawyer was Gustus. They trusted him and his capability as a lawyer. When Roan had been cleared of all charges, they'd been relieved, and Gustus had remained on Roan's case for the following battle to get his father convicted of child abuse. He deserved to go to prison, both his parents did, and Gustus was just the person to make sure he ended up in prison, where he belonged.

 

_Important news. Meet me at Gina’s office._

She didn’t like Lexa’s way of texting, not always. Sometimes she was unintentionally cryptic, leaving Clarke to obsess over what she might have actually meant.

As she drove downtown, she tried to figure whether ‘important news’ meant good news or bad. In the end, she gave up on trying, and walked up the steps to the building with shaky legs.

But when she saw Lexa, standing by the receptionist’s desk, a shy smile on her lips, she relaxed. A smile and that specific shine in Lexa’s eye couldn’t mean bad news.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Lexa grinned, giving Clarke’s cheek a quick kiss. “You get down here okay?”

“Had to park a few blocks away. What’s the news?”

“Aden and Roan’s mother was diagnosed with schizophrenia earlier this morning,” Lexa began, keeping her voice low so as to not disturb the other people in the waiting room. “The court is working to terminate her parental rights, too – they’ll get it done by Thursday, at the latest.”

“That’s….amazing,” Clarke stammered.

The father had been convicted of multiple felonies after Gustus had successfully proven him guilty of having abused his children for years. His parental rights had already been taken away, but the mother had been an issue – there hadn’t been any proof of her involvement, and there were only so many ways that parental rights could be taken away without the parent’s consent.

“Call it a stroke of luck,” Lexa sighed. “I was worried we’d have to get involved in another court war.”

Clarke’s hand instinctively reached for Lexa’s, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe the universe knows you’ve had your fair share of bad fortune.”

“Maybe.”

“Mrs & Mrs Griffin? Ms. Montes is waiting for you.”

Clarke went in first, Lexa second, and they sat down after briefly shaking hands with Gina.

“As you might have heard,” the woman began, flipping open a file and picking out some papers, “Mrs. Lowe was diagnosed with schizophrenia this morning. She’s being transported to a facility as we speak, and…well, I can’t say anyone’s mental illness is a blessing, but in this case, it did knock a few obstacles down. So to speak.”

Lexa nodded. “The court will terminate her rights soon, I hope?”

“By the end of the week. The forms are already filled, technically speaking she no longer has her rights, but legally we have to wait for a few signatures and stamps from here and there – but yes, she won’t have her rights for long.”

“And that means adoption would be much easier?”

“Exactly,” Gina smiled. “Which is why I’m happy to say that we could have your home study report finalized by next week.”

“Really?”

“Yes, all that’s left is that I visit your home. Just a routine check, to make sure you don’t live in a cardboard box.”

Clarke made a mental check to start cleaning her studio the second they got home. There was no way she was letting their caseworker see the mess, especially when it contained so many things that were definitely dangerous to children.

“That’s lovely,” Lexa grinned, glancing at Clarke. “Isn’t it?”

Clarke nodded. “And then what?”

“Well, then the report is sent off, and reviewed, and, if there are no problems, you’ll have two kids living in your house by the end of May.”

“Oh my goodness.”

“Overwhelming, isn’t it?” Gina smiled. “But, really, you needn’t worry. So far as I can tell, you’re excellent parent material. And the accounts from your friends say the same, too.”

They’d had to ask their friends to provide statements about their marriage and their skills with children, and of their character in general.

Clarke had been genuinely touched by what Raven had written about her. She’d been half afraid that she’d write some ridiculous stuff about her being terrified of babies, or something of the like. Instead, Raven had written a lengthy and well-phrased essay about how Clarke had the biggest heart in the world and how she, despite her lack of experience, was going to be the best mom in the world, mostly thanks to what Raven had aptly described as ‘her astounding ability to learn new things and adapt when problems arise’. 

It was really happening, all of it.

She was still overwhelmed. She wasn’t so sure she’d ever stop being overwhelmed.

But that was fine. She was still, in a way, overwhelmed that she was married to Lexa, and they’d been married for over two years.

It wasn’t every day, it wasn’t every moment, but every now and then, she would wake up and see Lexa’s face and just find herself in complete awe.

Sometimes, she would come downstairs to find Lexa dancing in the kitchen while something delicious was cooking on the stove, and she’d be struck by how settled down her life was.

Sometimes, she would find herself staring at Lexa instead of the stars, watching the amazement in her eyes and feeling her heart fill with love and what she could only describe as comforting warmth.

Sometimes, it was just a kiss, like any other, only that it left her mouth hanging open from the overwhelming realization that this was her life – and that it would be, for the rest of her life. It wasn’t scary, it didn’t give her anxiety, it didn’t feel bad in any way.

It was home. It felt right.

“You wanna pick up some takeout on our way home?”

“Hmm?”

“Clarke, are you okay?”

Clarke nodded and paused for a second, having forgotten where she was. They’d finished up with Gina, and were heading down the street to the car – but right now, Lexa was watching her in concern, green eyes full of worry.

“I’m okay, seriously,” Clarke assured her. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About you.”

“What about me?”

Clarke stopped walking and looked at Lexa, really looked – and then she couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her lips, and the gentle laugh that left them a moment later. Lexa stood there, in front of her, completely confused, watching as her wife wrapped her arms around her waist and pulled her in for a hug, burying her face in Lexa’s neck.

“Clarke, you’re being weird.”

“I love you,” Clarke breathed, withdrawing from the hug and giving Lexa a kiss. “I really love you.”

“I love you too, but…are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just really love you, okay?” Clarke laughed. “Shut up, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you married a crazy person.”

“I did marry a crazy person,” Lexa smirked, wrapping her arm around Clarke’s waist and starting to walk them both towards the car. “I married a crazy drunk blonde in Vegas, so I’m crazy too.”

“It’s just overwhelming, sometimes,” Clarke sighed, still unable to wipe the smile off of her face. “You. You’re overwhelming.”

“Me? Speak for yourself,” Lexa huffed, pulling the car keys from Clarke’s pocket and sitting in the driver’s seat without even asking Clarke if she wanted to drive.

“What did I do?” Clarke asked, once in the car.

“You exist,” Lexa told her. “And sometimes, your existence punches me in the heart with gooey warm feelings.”

“Gooey warm feelings? Punches?”

“Yes.”

“That’s beautiful. So poetic. You should be a writer.”

Lexa chuckled. “Shut up. You still haven’t answered the takeout question, by the way.”

“I think Raven said something about cooking today.”

“Raven? Please tell me she’s making lasagna, that’s the only thing she knows how to make.”

“I saw some pasta sheets in the kitchen before I left, so yeah, no need to worry. She’s making lasagna.”

 

* * *

 

“Octavia, you’re not supposed to be eating all the garlic bread, not yet-”

“Shut up,” Octavia grumbled, tossing a bread crumb at Raven. “It’s the twins, they’re making me do this.”

“I can’t wait till those two pop out and you stop using them as an excuse for everything,” Raven chuckled.

“They’re not going to pop out, they’re going to tear out of my body, so I’d like to just enjoy life while I still can. And this is delicious, by the way.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “It’s not even done. It’s bread with garlic mush and butter on top, I haven’t cooked it yet.”

“Doesn’t matter. Delicious,” Octavia said, standing up with a groan.

Her belly had grown significantly over the past few weeks.

She still had a few months to go, but with twins, it was only reasonable that she’d be bigger. And it was reasonable that she was uncomfortable, too.

“I’m going to go take a nap, or make an attempt at one,” she sighed. “Lincoln said he’ll be home late, so no need to set out a plate for him.”

“Clarke and Raven are on their way right now,” Raven replied, glancing at her phone. “And Anya’s sleeping upstairs. You go nap, I’ll come get you when the food’s ready.”

Octavia smiled as she headed up, one hand on her lower back. Raven watched her, and waited till she heard the door shut upstairs.

And then she put some music on and started cooking.

She wasn’t a particularly good cook. She could make anything in a chemical lab, if need be, but somehow, pans and pots weren’t her forte the same way beakers and pipettes were.

But lasagnas were an exception. She’d decided, one December about a year earlier, that she would learn one dish, one thing that she could make, and had settled on a lasagna.

Of course, she hadn’t actually been able to teach herself. No, she’d lied about that, in truth she’d spent a few long hours on Skype with Abby, but in the end, she’d made a decent product.

By the third time, it was routine, and now, a year later, she dared to call herself the master of that one dish. She could relax, dance around, sipping on her glass of red wine whenever she remembered where she’d put it, having a grand time all to herself. Sardine watched her from atop a cupboard, and Fish scrambled around her feet, hoping to catch a spare treat.

She didn’t notice Anya sneaking up on her until suddenly there were hands on her waist.

Anya had meant it as a cute gesture.

Raven, on the other hand, had no control over her reflexes, which resulted in a wooden spoon making contact with Anya’s cheek with a loud smack.

“Oh my god!” Raven cried, dropping the spoon, whirling around to find Anya holding her cheek, smeared with red meat sauce, glaring at her with all her might.

“What the fuck, Raven?”

“I didn’t mean to hit you, you snuck up on me!”

Anya stretched out her jaw and rubbed at the sore skin where the spoon had hit her. “That hurt.”

“I’m so sorry,” Raven said quickly. “I’m- how did you sneak up on me like that? Why? You know I have a tendency to punch people who surprise me-“

“I do, but I thought you saw me,” Anya muttered.

“Let me kiss it better.”

“I’m not a child.”

“Still,” Raven insisted, pulling Anya closer and kissing her cheek as gently as she could. “I’m really sorry. Did it hurt much?”

“You hit me with a wooden spoon, Raven.”

“I didn’t mean to-“

Anya rolled her eyes and sighed. “Why can I never successfully do anything cute to you?”

Raven frowned. “What do you mean ‘never’?”

“I tried to give you a massage last week, but Sardine jumped you instead. I tried to bring you flowers, but a rainstorm destroyed them-“

“I think you just have bad luck,” Raven murmured, kissing her cheek again. “And I’m seriously sorry that I hit you.”

“Who hit who?”

Raven turned around to find Clarke and Lexa standing in the doorway, staring at them in confusion.

“Also, why is Fish licking a spoon on the floor?” Clarke asked. “And why is there sauce on Anya’s face?”

Raven let out a laugh. “Anya tried to be cute and surprised me.”

“Oh no-”

“It’s nothing,” Anya muttered, grabbing a paper towel to wipe her face. “I should’ve known.”

“What did you do, smack her in the face!?” Lexa cried, coming over to inspect the growing red mark on Anya’s cheek. “That’s not okay-”

“It was an accident,” Raven argued. “I would never hit Anya, or smack her, except her ass, but that’s entirely different.”

“It really was an accident,” Anya told Lexa. “And it doesn’t hurt that much.”

“I can’t do anything about my reflexes,” Raven added. “They are what they are.”

Lexa shot her a look. “You need to be more careful.”

“I _am_ careful.”

“Raven, move,” Clarke said, pushing her out of the way to get to the cupboard with the plates. “When’s the food ready?”

“Half an hour or so, why?”

“Good, I’ll have time for a shower. I feel like I still stink of turpentine, I changed my shirt and all, but it’s still lingering,” Clarke sighed, heading over to the table with a pile of plates. “Who’s coming to eat?”

“Everyone except Lincoln and Octavia.”

“Where’s Octavia?” Lexa asked. “I thought she was home today.”

“She is, but she said she was going up for a nap, but she looked sleepy enough that I think she shouldn’t be disturbed for a few hours. She needs the sleep,” Raven told her. “Oh, also, there’s a load of laundry, it finished up a minute or so ago, can you go get that? It’s gym clothes, they’ll start smelling-“

Lexa sighed and headed towards the laundry room. “I'm on it.”

Anya was sitting by the counter, holding an ice pack to her cheek, watching as Raven cleaned up the remains of her cooking and Clarke set the table.

“How’d it go with the caseworker, by the way?”

Clarke glanced up from the table and shrugged. “It was great. The mom has schizophrenia, so her rights are going to be terminated whether she wants or not, so all we have to do is finish up the home study report and then just…hope for the best.”

“Wow, really?”

“Oh, wait, Gina’s going to come over here in two days, to check out our house and all that. So we need to clean. Properly.”

“Spring cleaning, that’s fine,” Raven nodded. “Just don’t tell me I have to clean the garage.”

“You might have to.”

Raven frowned. “I don’t want to.”

“Do you want our caseworker deciding our house is unfit for children because you forgot a box of nails and a chainsaw in the middle of the garage floor?”

“I don’t own a chainsaw.”

“Nevertheless, you get my point.”

Raven sighed. “Yeah, fine, I’ll clean it.”

“Good,” Clarke smiled. “Anya can help you.”

Anya, having zoned out of the conversation, wasn’t too happy to hear herself being volunteered for a chore she wanted no part of. “Hey, I said nothing about-“

“Would you rather let Raven try and clean it on her own?”

Anya glanced at Raven. “No. She’d probably let a box fall on herself and die.”

“I’m not _that_ clumsy!” Raven argued.

“Right, because you’re the only one in this house who has had to visit the ER multiple times in the past six months,” Clarke pointed out, moving her out of the way to fill up a pitcher of water. “It’s just a safety measure. And I think…” she glanced at Anya, and then at Raven. “I think Anya’s capable of motivating you to get your shit done.”

 

* * *

 

It turns out Clarke needed motivation more than anyone else did. She woke up the next morning and felt like the last thing she wanted to do was clean.

And yet, she had to. She wanted Gina to get the best possible picture of them, and a messy house wasn’t exactly their best.

“I’m sorry I have to go to work,” Lexa told her on her way out. “I’ll be home by three. You can leave some cleaning for me, too.”

“You get to clean the third floor,” Clarke told her, looking over her checklist. “And you have to organize the study.”

“Alright. I’ll bring some takeout on my way home.”

“Mediterranean, please,” Clarke smiled. “Have a good day at work. Bring me some extra garlic bread, too.”

She’d made a list. She wasn’t the type to make lists, Lexa was the one who made lists, but this time, Clarke had decided she needed extra effort and motivation in her project. They’d been putting off a proper cleaning of the house for months, and now was the time to do it.

“Lincoln, wait up.”

Lincoln, who had just been on his way out, turned on his heel and looked at Clarke. “Yeah?”

“You’re off to look for some properties for your new bar, right?”

“I am.”

“And you’re going to be back when?”

“Midday. We have a doctor’s appointment,” Lincoln told her. “But that won’t take long. We’ll be here to clean in the afternoon.”

“D’you have time for some groceries?”

“Sure, what do you need?”

Once Lincoln was settled, Clarke sighed and turned around to look at the living room.

At first glance, it looked relatively neat, but on closer inspection, Clarke could see the dust bunnies in the corners, the paw-prints on the floor, and a whole lot of other things.

“Okay. Time to buckle down.”

She sent Fish out into the yard for the day. She didn’t want him messing up her plans.

Sardine was a little bit of a problem, but, as she started carrying out rugs and blankets, she realized that the cat was happily settled on top of a cupboard, laying in a ray of sunlight. There was no way she was going to move from there any time soon.

It took a while, but she did eventually get into the routine of things. She put all the sheets into the wash, took all the beddings and mattresses out for a good airing-out and beating, and left them there in the cool April sun to freshen up.

Fish was happily gnawing on a stick in the garden. Everything felt calm, in a sense, even though Clarke could hear the humming of the motorway some ways’ off, and the pressing awareness that this wasn’t a serene Satuday morning, but a Wednesday, a day where she was technically supposed to be at work.

She’d taken the day off to properly get the cleaning done. In her line of work, taking days off wasn’t such a big deal.

And she did really want to have the time to make the house look nice. She took the time to unload the entire bookshelf in the living room, only to re-organize it and set it back in perfect order. She took the time to paint over the scuff marks on the corners that had come from moving furniture around, she took the time to carry every single house plant outside and renew their soil.

She didn’t _have_ to do all of it. But she felt like she needed a day to herself, of just calm simple work, and, by the time people started coming back from their jobs, she felt serene and ready for anything.

Raven was the first to come home. She came in, demolished a sandwich, and then saluted Clarke military-style before heading into the garage.

Lincoln and Octavia followed soon after. Since Octavia wasn’t allowed to do any heavy labor, Clarke had delegated laundry-duty to her – her job was getting rid of the mountain of clean laundry on the coffee table, by means of folding.

“Good, I just started the second season of Criminal Minds,” she grinned, sitting down on the couch. “Too bad you have to work, babe.”

Lincoln rolled his eyes. “Just don’t tell me what happens, okay?”

“That show came out ages ago,” Clarke pointed out. “How have neither of you watched it?”

“Never came up.”

Anya and Lexa came home at the same time. Clarke was as glad to see Lexa as she was to see the food that she carried in – she was starving, having not had time for anything other than a quick snack some hours ago.

“I think I’ve made significant progress,” she said, taking a bite of her garlic bread. “I didn’t redo the soil in your little tree, I know you’d want to do that yourself.”

Lexa smiled. “Thanks. It’s a little sensitive, that’s all.”

“How was work?”

A frown passed over Lexa’s face. “It was fine.”

“Lexa, what was that look?”

“Nothing,” Lexa sighed. “Just an annoying lawyer, that’s all.”

“Who?”

“Ontari West,” Lexa muttered. “She’s kind of a bitch. Accused me of planting evidence.”

“What?”

“It was slander, of course, and the judge said as much, but I think that girl hates my guts.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lexa shrugged. “I’m a better lawyer than she is. And I have a bomb-ass wife that she’d _really_ be jealous of.”

“Maybe I’ll show up at the courthouse some day,” Clarke suggested. “Dress up all sexy and kiss you in front of everyone. Show ‘em who’s boss.”

Lexa laughed. “See, this is why you’re the best.”

“No, I’m the best because I put your favorite sheets on the bed, and there’s bath stuff prepared for when we’re done cleaning, so we’ll be fresh and smelling amazing by the time Gina comes here tomorrow.”

“I don’t think we need to smell amazing to pass the home study.”

“No,” Clarke laughed. “But I like it when you smell good. And you do too.”

“I do,” Lexa chuckled. “You’re really having fun with this cleaning thing, aren’t you?”

“Surprisingly enough, I am.”

 

* * *

 

Raven wasn’t having fun.

If anything, she was getting a headache.

She’d driven every vehicle out of the garage, rearranged the utility closet and washed most of the oil stains off of the floor, but was now faced with what seemed like an impossible task – her work station.

It was just two shelves and a working table, it shouldn’t have been so chaotic, and yet, somehow, it looked like it had exploded.

“I don’t remember leaving it like this,” she muttered, eyeing the piles of nuts and bolts, scattered across the table alongside bits of metal, springs, screws, all sorts of things that she could use for making something.

“Oh Jesus,” Anya sighed, walking in to the garage. “Please tell me that’s not what we have to organize.”

Raven offered her an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“It’s…these shelves??? It’s like scrap-metal Jenga-“ Anya cursed, eyeing the shelf. “How on earth are you not hurting yourself each time you come down here to work?”

“I have skills,” Raven muttered. “But I haven’t used that other shelf in months.”

“How do we disassemble it?”

Raven sighed. She’d been trying to figure it out for a good half an hour, and had finally given up – and so, without warning, she pulled Anya back, went over, and pulled on a piece of metal on the bottom.

The whole thing came crashing down with such a loud explosion of noises that everyone in the house heard.

Hell, everyone in San Francisco heard.

“Raven, what the hell!?”

“It was the only option,” Raven shrugged.

"The only option? Seriously?"

"If there had been any other way, I would've done it-"

Lexa came running a moment later. “Please tell me nobody died.”

“No, no one’s dead, Raven just gave me a heart attack,” Anya grumbled. “You can go back to cleaning.”

Raven smirked at Anya from amidst the wreckage. “It worked, though. This is much easier to organize.”

All that Anya saw was the small cut on Raven’s wrist. “Raven, you hurt yourself.”

“I did?” Raven asked, having not noticed the cut. “Oh, it’s just a little cut. I have band-aid’s…”

She hopped over a box and went over to a jar, hung from the wall, where she kept all sorts of emergency supplies: band-aids, hair ties, a chocolate bar…anything she might need, really.

Anya just watched as her girlfriend picked out a Wonder Woman band-aid, not quite believing she was with such a dork. But when she saw Raven start unwrapping it without even having cleaned the cut, she walked over, shaking her head.

“No, Raven,” she said, taking the band-aid from her. “You have to clean the cut.”

Raven frowned. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Anya said. “Come on, there’s anti-septic in the car’s first-aid kit.”

“It’s just-“

“I’m not arguing with you about this, you could get sepsis if you don’t clean even the smallest cut,” Anya snapped. “Also, you’re an idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Sure, you're a genius, but you keep getting yourself hurt,” Anya grumbled, searching through the first-aid kit for what she needed. “And I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You better be.”

A gentle hiss left Raven's lips when Anya cleaned the cut, and put the band-aid over it.

"You seriously buy band-aids meant for children?"

"The box says ages three and up," Raven shrugged. "And I like Wonder Woman. She's badass, and hot."

"You're ridiculous."

"I know."

"But we should start cleaning now."

Raven looked over at the pile of scrap metal and unfinished projects on the floor and sighed. “I’m not going to sleep tonight, am I?”

“If you buckle down, you could,” Anya chuckled.

“But it’s so _boring-“_

“Raven, look over here,” Anya said.

Raven did look.

And, consequently, almost had a heart attack. Anya lifted her shirt, enough to reveal the corset she was wearing underneath, and Raven may or may not have drooled a little – everything else melted away from her mind, the only thing left was the image of Anya’s body in the corset, a _new_ corset, dark red lace, with a cleavage that made Raven’s lungs forget what air was and how to get it. It was beautiful, everything about it was, and all Raven really wanted to do in that moment was tear the shirt off of Anya and see it again.

“Do you- do you want me to die?” she gasped, leaning against the hood of the car, fanning air into her face. “Because…whoa.”

“That should be your motivation,” Anya murmured, giving her shoulder a kiss. “No sex till this garage is clean.”

Raven’s eyes widened. “That’s not fair.”

“I gave you a little taste,” Anya smirked. “Now come on, get to work, you’ll have your prize later on.”

 

* * *

 

Lexa’s prize for finishing her cleaning was a long and relaxing bath with Clarke. She was exhausted by the end of it all, after vacuuming the entire floor and after going through every drawer and shelf in her study, but in the end, the house was spotless.

There were new sheets on their bed, everything smelled fresh and new, and there were fresh flowers on the nightstands – daffodils, two different kinds, white and golden, the yellow looking especially lively against the pastel greens and creamy whites of their bedroom.

Clarke had even gone to the effort of getting rose petals for the bath.

“This is a luxury,” Lexa sighed, sinking into the water, melting against Clarke’s body. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Clarke grinned, hugging her closer and pressing her lips to her neck. “You did a lot of work today.”

“You did way more.”

“I didn’t carry furniture around, that was all you and Lincoln.”

“True,” Lexa yawned. “Which reminds me, I need to go to the gym tomorrow.”

Clarke just smiled and reached for a flower petal, which she began toying with. “Where are we going to put the kids? If we get them, I mean?”

Lexa hadn’t really thought much of that. She hadn’t dared to, not when there’d seemed to have been so many obstacles between them and the kids – but now, there were virtually none, just paperwork, and time that they had to wait.

“I don’t know. Aden’s little…he probably needs a bedroom near us, right?”

“I can move my studio up to the third floor,” Clarke mused. “And Roan can have the spare room there.”

“We’re a little insane, aren’t we?”

“Yup.”

“Should we buy them toys?”

“I don’t think Roan needs toys,” Clarke laughed. “He’s at the age where if he needs toys, he can get them himself.”

Lexa let out a groan. “Clarke-“

“What? He _is_ seventeen,” Clarke reminded her. “Just reminding you of the facts. We’re going to have a hormonal teenager under our roof.”

“I’m sure he’s already had the sex talk,” Lexa sighed. “He is seventeen, after all. He knows what’s up.”

“His parents are religious. I wouldn’t be _so_ sure about that, they might have just told him sex was a sin until the priest says it isn’t.”

“True…”

For a long moment, they didn’t talk. There was no need to. The candles flickered slowly, their warm glow reflecting off of the water, and the little waves on it’s surface caused by the slow rise and fall of their chests refracted the light into golden sparkles on the walls. The scent of roses lingered all around them, and the heat of the water, seeping in all the way to their souls, put them in a state of complete silent serenity.

“Lexa?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you falling asleep?”

“Mm…” Lexa sighed. “Maybe.”

“Do you want to get up?”

“In a minute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah i love my cute gay babies living in a household of other cute gay and not gay babies

**Author's Note:**

> don't forget to leave kudos & comments, and hit me up @clexy-polarbear on tumblr


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